In the Name of Love
by Another Slave Hums
Summary: Alexander is the heir to a lucrative software company for which Hephaestion begins to work. Their past, however, proves to be a difficult barrier to cross as their relationship progresses. This story is set in modern times.
1. Chapter 1

For the first time in a long time, Alexander saw him. It was painfully thespian, that moment, like seeing the man in technicolor and everything else in grayscale. He'd entered through the wide revolving doors and was stroding toward the elevator, where he dug his hands into his suit pockets and waited, something about him preying on Alexander's mind.

"Huh." Ptolemy pocketed his phone. "Cassander's called in sick again today."

Alexander hummed his acknowledgement and continued to survey the man, who turned to look idly around the lobby, allowing Alexander a view of his face. He had a stained wood complexion and a pair of bright blue eyes. Strands of loose brown curls fell out of his bun, brushing his unshaven jugular. Thick long hair and a lean-muscled build, each complementing the other, perfecting a sort of effortless androgyny that Alexander couldn't quite seem to get over.

Ptolemy frowned, following the path of Alexander's eyes and a look of astonishment fell over his face. "Dude. Isn't that Hephaestion?"

Alexander vaguely heard Ptolemy say something along the lines of "so different now" and "thought he died" before he found himself slipping past the shutting doors of the elevator and standing next to the man he had known so well in high school as the boy who never relinquished his dignity to grovel at the feet of the league of self-righteous elites that Alexander had called his friends.

"Hephaestion. Hi."

"Alexander?" Hephaestion looked genuinely surprised and Alexander tried to suppress the swell of pride at the fact that Hephaistion could still recognize him and hadn't forgotten his name. This kept him from noticing the deep furrow that was forming between the other man's brows.

"We haven't met in what, ten years?" Alexander laughed, feathery and awkward. "How've you been?"

"Good, good," replied Hephaestion, looking much like he'd rather be elsewhere, anywhere. "Do you work here?"

"Um, yeah," said Alexander, leaving out the fact that he was to own the company upon turning twenty-five that coming September. "What're you doing here?"

"It's my first day at work," said Hephaestion with a close-lipped smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Ah, which department will you be working under?"

"Advertising. And you?"

"Financial services." The words shot out of his mouth, being the first that came to mind.

The brunette nodded and a shroud of silence fell over them as Hephaestion watched the number on the elevator screen slowly increase and Alexander leaned back against the wall, scratching his nape in an internal struggle to continue their conversation.

"How about lunch at the-"

"So I'll see you around," interjected Hephaestion politely as the elevator doors opened on the sixth floor and he stepped out.

It hadn't turned out as well as Alexander would've liked.

* * *

"Good morning, Alexander," greeted Bagoas, Alexander's personal assistant of two years, taking his jacket from him and setting it neatly on the coat rack that stood at the far corner of his office.

"Morning," mumbled Alexander as he took his seat and sipped from his coffee, eyes glued to the computer screen.

"Cleitus has called from Oslo this morning to remind you of your appointment at seven tonight with Roxane."

Alexander looked up at this, clearly having forgotten about it. Roxane was a close friends of his whom he'd met in college. One thing strange about their relationship was that they were engaged to be married in two years, although neither had any non-platonic affections for the other. One could call it a marriage of convenience seeing as both of them had a preference for their own gender and a marriage between the two would've saved a lot of explanations. This, however, was unbeknownst to Cleitus, Alexander's thirty-six-year-old uncle and the current owner of the software company Delware, who was thrilled by the idea of his nephew's marriage and had begun taking all wedding arrangements and plans into his own hands. Alexander hated to lie, but he hated even more to think about how his uncle would react should Alexander decide to come clean with him.

"Where. . . exactly was the appointment again?"

"It will be at the photography studio." Bagoas turned to answer a phone call. "Alexander's office, how may I help you?"

"Bagoas, call Cassander for me, would you," said Alexander, apparently unaware that Bagoas was occupied at the moment. "I need to know where the hell that bastard is right now, he'd better not still be in bed. We didn't hire him to get laid every night and not turn up for work."

Bagoas took a moment to fix an incredulous glance at his boss before continuing to speak with the person on the other end of the phone. "Yes, Cassander. I will relay your message to him. . . Yes, goodbye."

"Was that Cassander?" asked Alexander needlessly.

"Yes, he says that he will not be well enough to attend work today but will however join you at the photography studio. If there's nothing else, I'll be in my office."

Alexander nodded dismissively and turned to his computer, letting his mind wander back onto the old friend he had encountered in the morning.

He remembered that the man used to be more than a head shorter than himself even at full height, had on braces that made his lips appear that much thicker, wore his hair short and curly, and always walked in a way that made it seem like he didn't know what to do with his hands. He also remembered how he was a little bit obsessed with him.

But Hephaestion had grown up gracefully. Now he was about the same height as Alexander himself and the blonde couldn't quite seem to shake the image of how regal he'd looked in a suit, how charmingly his loose hair fell around his face and how his aquamarine eyes lit up his tan face, from his stuffy head. He was going to meet the man again today.

* * *

Hephaestion exhaled deeply as he settled in his cubicle. Here he was, exactly where he'd sworn never to be just some years ago. Deskbound. He hated the sound of it to the very core of each syllable.

The advertising job at Delware was, of course, not his first option. His initial plan was to get a part-time job, bartending perhaps, to fund his apprenticeship for the beginning years until he was good to open his own studio. Little did he expect that he would give up the life of a starving artist that he'd so ardently sworn by and get himself a job at a software company.

Hephaestion wasn't sure if he could ever become accomodated to such an environment even if only half the stories about clerical life were true. And to make matters worse, he had just recently discovered that he was about to be colleagues with one of the group of boys who had ensured that most of his high school life was spent in misery. But of course he wasn't going to let the bleakness of his past resurface. He decided that seeing as Alexander was working in the financial department, which was situated right at the other end of the building, it couldn't be too difficult to avoid bumping into him. But just to be on the safe side, he was going to have lunch in the office that day.

* * *

"Thought you'd be here," said an all too familiar voice as a bag of takeaway food was placed on his desk. "You like Thai food?"

Hephaestion frowned, feeling slightly sick at Alexander's outwardly thoughtful gesture. Thai food was indeed Hephaestion's favorite, but he had no business with admitting that fact. He mustered a smile. "You didn't have to. I bought sandwiches from the cafeteria."

"Nobody eats from the cafeteria. The food there is trash," laughed Alexander, pulling out a chair from the opposite cubicle to sit next to him and then picking Hephaestion's sandwiches up and throwing them carelessly in the bin. "So how've you been, really?"

For several seconds, Hephaestion stared blankly at the barely-eaten sandwich in his personal bin, half-buried in scraps.

Recovering from his mind trip, he pushed his chair further under the desk and placed his hand on the mouse, hoping that Alexander knew a thing about body language and would just go away. "I'd love to chat, but there's work that needs to be done."

"It's your first day at work. I'm pretty sure they wouldn't give you too much responsbility just yet."

"Do not undermine my abilities, Alexander."

"What're you - that's not what I meant." Alexander was severely confused by the turn that the conversation had taken. _What's with this guy? I drive two streets down to the best restaurant around to buy him lunch and he snubs me? _"Did I do something?"

Hephaestion turned to look at him before clearing his throat and fixing his eyes back on his computer screen. "Look, could we just pretend we never met each other before this?"

"I don't get it. What's bothering you?" asked Alexander, pulling two boxes of noodles out of the bag and pushing one to the distressed brunette. "Eat it before it turns cold."

"Why did you buy me lunch?" asked Hephaestion after a few seconds of silent frustration passed. "You used to throw it at me. You used to steal my clothes after gym class. You used to lock me in my own goddamn locker. Why are you buying me lunch?"

"What? Hephaestion, I've never done any of those things. Just what the hell are you talking about?"

"You've never done any of that, but your friends have," by now Hephaestion's voice was barely above a whisper, and he was feeling like the helpless teenager that he was just some years ago. "But what did I ever do to you?"

"Believe me, I had no clue that any of that has ever happened to you. . ."

"Let's just not talk about this anymore," said Hephaestion, feeling like he had sufficiently humiliated himself. "Please just go back to your department and pretend this conversation never happened."

Alexander nodded and, watching Hephaestion warily, left the room before disappearing behind the elevator doors.

Hephaestion groaned into his hands. He had once again just done something he'd promised himself not to do.


	2. Chapter 2

When Alexander arrived, he found Roxane seated alone on an ottoman underneath the stairs. She was wearing a dark satin dress and a pair of matching heels. Alexander wondered why she hadn't changed into her wedding gown yet. Roxane looked up from her book at hearing the ring of the studio's doorbell. She smiled and scooted over to offer Alexander a seat. "Hey, you."

"Where's Cassander?" he asked as he sat next to her, knowing full well that the man was never on time.

"He's chatting up the photographer," replied Roxanea and the corners of her lips rose into a sweet smile. "And I wouldn't blame him either- she's quite the pretty girl."

"Yeah?" chuckled Alexander.

"Mhm. Too bad it'd be inappropriate hooking up with your wedding photographer," said Roxane with a feathery laugh, carding tapered fingers through her dark hair and tucking it behind her ears. "What kept you, Alex? We've been here almost an hour."

"Sorry, Roxy," laughed Alexander, smacking a kiss on the crown of her head by way of apology and Roxane elbowed him lightly in the ribs.

"I apologise for spoiling the moment, lovebirds," said the tall blonde photographer as she stood in the doorway, grinning. It appeared like she was equipped with her instruments. "Would you follow me into the other room please."

"Isn't Ptolemy coming?" asked Roxane.

"Let's just wait a while more," said Cassander as he entered the room, hanging up his phone. "He forgot about the photoshoot, but he's on his way now."

"I have an appointment with another couple in a few hours," said the photographer with an apologetic look.

"It's no problem, Jenny," said Cassander, placing a hand on the photographer's shoulder and carressing it with his thumb. "I'll give you a ride there. You won't be late, trust me."

Jennifer laughed uneasily and slipped out of Cassander's grip. "Thanks. I would appreciate that." She turned to Alexander and his fiancee. "You guys should get changed first while we wait."

* * *

"Ptolemy!" called someone as Ptolemy walked past the office breakroom. When he peered in, he saw Gerald, the head of the advertising department and Hephaestion eating from takeout boxes.

When their eyes met, Ptolemy and Hephaestion greeted one another awkwardly.

"Great, so I guess the both of you have met." said Gerald, standing up and gesturing for Ptolemy to join them.

"Is there somewhere you need to be?" asked Gerald when Ptolemy seemed hesitant to take a seat.

Ptolemy shook his head wordlessly and finally sat down next to Hephaestion, the legs of the metal chair scraping resonantly against the tiled floor as he pushed it in.

"You should know that Hephaestion is a newcomer," said Gerald to Ptolemy as he closed the box of his half-eaten meal. "So what I had in mind was to transfer him under your charge for the time being, since I'll be working on a few projects soon and won't have the time to show him the ropes."

When once again Ptolemy showed signs of reluctance, Gerald asked, "Can you do that?"

Ptolemy glanced at Hephaestion, who had been eating silently during the whole exchange. He tried to picture him as a new face, one he'd never encountered before. "I suppose."

But when bright blue eyes turned to look back at him, even as no apparent emotions were evident, Ptolemy regretted his decision immediately.

* * *

"Where were you?" asked a tuxedo-clad Alexander, frowning at his own reflection when his bowtie refused to sit in place, then looking back up at Ptolemy's panting and perspiring reflection in the mirror.

"I was, um," deliberated Ptolemy, shifting his weight between his feet, as though deciding whether to tell the truth. "I was with Hephaestion?"

At this, Alexander turned around. "Doing what?"

"Just, y'know. . . Catching up, I guess."

Alexander looked at him for a while, as though trying to figure him out. His lips moved as though to form a question before he seemed to dismiss that idea. "You should get changed."

His friend nodded and hurried to the changing rooms, eager to escape Alexander's scrutinising gaze. Cassander laughed from the corner of the room where he sat.

"Roxane still getting her makeup done?" asked the brunette, already making his way to the makeup room. Alexander shrugged, his rebellious bowtie proving to be the bigger issue at the moment.

"Roxy," cooed Cassander as he stood behind the beautiful bride-to-be and gazed at their reflection together. A few years ago, Cassander would have thought they made a beautiful couple, but right now he was glad they didn't, because if they did, he wouldn't have found another friend to spend the rest of their lives with. Her usually straight tresses were curled and pinned up loosely at the back, leaving a trail of soft brown tendrils that shined against the smooth chocolate skin of her collar bones.

"I'm beautiful, huh?" teased Roxane with a somewhat boyish grin when she noticed the way Cassander looked at her. The guilty man rolled his eyes and mocked a gag. They both laughed.

"Lemy just got here," said Cassander as he flattened the hair on the back of his head. "He should be ready soon."

* * *

"So, Hephaestion," began Ptolemy when Gerald left them alone. He wiped his sweaty palms discreetly against his thighs. "You've changed so much over the years."

"For better or for worse?"

"Better," said Ptolemy truthfully, smiling slightly at Hephaestion's surprised and yet pleased expression. "The hair suits you."

"You're still the same," noted Hephaestion. Ptolemy nodded, unsure if it was a good thing. "So are _all_ of you working in this company?"

"All of us?"

"You and Alexander and the rest of the people who followed him around in school."

"Oh no," said Ptolemy, surprised that he would bring up their past so easily. "Just Alexander and me. We've pretty much lost contact with the rest after graduation."

"Even Oliver?" asked Hephaestion, unconvinced. Oliver used to stick to Alexander like gum to a shoe, even Ptolemy didn't hang around the blonde as much. Oliver used to emulate Alexander in any way he could. He would bleach his hair, wear it in a sort of wind-swept pompadour that made the girls go dreamy-eyed, sport the same leather jacket and band tee look, talk in the same throaty devil-may-care attitude - hell, even their girlfriends were similar. Alexander, however, appeared like he either couldn't care for or was oblivious to the other boy's unhealthy attachment to him. Hephaestion also remembered Oliver because he seemed to be the most participative when it came to making life difficult for him in school. He tried not to let his mind dwell on it.

"Even Oliver," confirmed Ptolemy.

"That's good," said Hephaestion noncommittally, before correcting himself. "I mean - not that I think it's a good thing you've grown apart."

"Yeah, I understand he's not exactly your favorite person," said Ptolemy, chuckling in an attempt at draining the wall-thick tension between them, since they were going to have to get along one way or another.

Hephaestion looked at the other man and, realising that there was no ill intention behind his words, let a breath of laughter escape his lips as well.

"So um, how was your first day at work?" asked Ptolemy, too tired at the end of the day to think of a better way to phrase his question than to sound like a badgering mother.

Hephaestion seemed amused at how he sounded. "It was fine." Then his mind went back to how he had lost his cool in front of Alexander, bringing a deep redness to his cheeks.

A phone began to ring.

"Excuse me," said Ptolemy and he walked out of the breakroom to take his call.

When he returned, he had an urgent expression on his face. "I'm sorry, I have somewhere to be."

"It's fine," said Hephaestion, sweeping the pieces of food he had dropped on the table into the takeout box and standing up to leave as well.

"We'll talk again sometime," said Ptolemy, as if they were good friends who had lost touch of each other and had met again by chance. Hephaestion nodded anyway.

"I'm sorry. For everything." said Ptolemy as though as an afterthought, before finally leaving without waiting for a response.

* * *

It was an understatement to say that the entire process of the photoshoot felt uneasy on Ptolemy's part. Whenever his eyes had met Alexander's, the blonde would have had a hard resentful look in his eyes, and when Ptolemy tried to smile at him, Alexander's jaw would clench tight and he'd look away gruffly as though he couldn't tolerate a moment in Ptolemy's presence. Such an instance occurred about three times before Ptolemy decided he had had enough.

"Alright now what is _up_ with you today?" asked Ptolemy, pulling his friend aside when Roxane and Cassander were sharing a laugh with the photographer.

"Nothing," said Alexander with a sorry attempt at a laugh. He peeled his friend's hand off his arm.

"Alex just tell me what's wrong." said Ptolemy, losing patience.

Alexander turned his brown eyes on the trio at the other side of the room and exhaled, speaking on soft tones. "Why didn't you tell me about Hephaestion?"

"How was I supposed to know he'd be working at the company?" asked Ptolemy, incredulous.

"Not that. I'm talking about back in school," said Alexander, his temper escalating. "What the bunch of you did to him."

Ptolemy's jaw fell open. "What _we_ did to him?"

"Yes."

"The last time I checked, _you_ were the one who told us to do those things."

"_What_?" Alexander was severely confused. "I actually liked the guy."

"You _liked_ him? You liked him. Right," Ptolemy let out a soft humorless laugh. "You used to complain about how conceited and haughty he was, remember? You said you wanted to break him."

"I've never - "

"Trust me, you did." There was a look of conviction in Ptolemy's eyes.

"Even if I did," said Alexander defiantly. "It'd just be in a moment of agitation or something. I'd never actually _do_ anything to him. I really liked him. In fact I still do now."

"Then why didn't you say so?"

"I _did._ I told someone. I told Oliver."

It was then that something seemed to dawn on Ptolemy. His expression was distraught.

"What?" asked Alexander, frustrated.

"Oliver was always the one who told us what you wanted us to do to Hephaestion," said Ptolemy as though he couldn't believe his own words. "He was always so _angry_ at Hephaestion even though he's never even so much as spoken to him."

"What're you saying?"

"Couldn't you see how obssessed that guy was with you?" when Alexander remained silent, he continued. "Once you told him about how you felt for Hephaestion. . . " Ptolemy raised his eyebrows and waited for his friend to piece things together in his head.

"Why didn't you stop them?" was all Alexander could say.

"I. . . couldn't. I was just a kid, and it was all peer pressure."

Alexander's frown deepened.

"Besides, I never participated," explained Ptolemy, wishing his excuses didn't sound as pathetic to Alexander as it did to him. "I just knew about what they were doing, that's all. It was all just petty bullying, nobody got hurt."

"What're you guys talking about?" asked Cassander, who had just come out of the changing room to find two of his friends in a heated discourse.

"Nothing," said the both of them.

"You wouldn't know," said Alexander dismissively when it didn't look like Cassander was about to let the matter drop. "It's something that happened in high school."

"Oh," Cassander grinned, patting his friends on the back. "Then I guess it couldn't be too big of a deal, huh? That was a decade ago."


	3. Chapter 3

It had been almost a month since he first entered the software company Delware, and Ptolemy decided it was time for him to get a first-hand experience on what he would be doing in the coming months, so Hesphaestion found himself seated in a meeting room at the far end of the table, directly facing the seat that would be taken by the managing director of the company. He, Ptolemy and a couple other people in his team were the only ones in the meeting room at the moment, but the back of Hephaestion's collar was already damp with cold sweat.

"No need to be nervous," said Ptolemy, reading Hephaestion's mind.

"I'm not."

"You are," said Gerald, laughing. "Don't be, because the big boss has a way of smelling fear, Hephaestion. And you reek of it."

"Har har," said Hephaestion, loosening his tie slightly and tucking loose strands of hair behind his ears.

* * *

Someone knocked on his office door. Alexander waited for the person to enter on their own, but they remained at the other side of the door after several seconds.

"Come in," said Alexander, frustrated at his assistant.

"Bagoas, how many times have I told you there's no need for you to knock before entering my office?" began Alexander when Bagoas entered. "It's not as though you'd catch me jacking off if you entered before knocking."

"I will remember not to knock next time, Alexander," said Bagoas, learning to remain stoic despite his boss's strange requirements. "There will be a presentation at nine with the advertising department."

"Who's presenting?" asked Alexander, piqued by the mention of the department that he had so conscientiously avoided the past two weeks.

"Gerald, Ptolemy, Frank and. . ." Bagoas seemed to falter at the last name.

"And?"

"Hef. . . Hefay. . ."

"Hephaestion?"

"If that is the way his name is pronounced, yes."

"No."

"Yes, Alexander. He will be at the meeting room," said Bagoas, looking perplexed.

"Oh no, no, no," Alexander spun his seat away from him, turning instead to face the cityscape outside his full-length office window. Tiny people crawled all over the place and in and out of buildings like maggots on a glass carcass. Alexander couldn't very well turn up at the meeting as managing director and pretend he wasn't himself, or that he was his own twin brother. He needed someone to stand in for him. It had to be someone he trusted and since Ptolemy was ruled out of the question, he had only one option left.

"Call Cassander to my office, thanks," he said to Bagoas so quickly the assistant almost couldn't catch his instruction.

After some minutes, Cassander entered his office without knocking and took a seat.

"You requested for my presence?" he asked with a devilish smile.

"I need to ask you a favor," said Alexander, sitting up in his chair. "I need you to be at the meeting room later at nine."

"Won't be a problem."

"You'll have to stand in for me as MD."

Cassander frowned. "What for?"

"It's a long story," said Alexander, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was 8:56. "Just act like you're the managing director."

"How?" asked Cassander as though his friend had just asked him to give him a lapdance.

"Ptolemy will be there," said Alexander, more to himself than to Cassander. He thought for a moment. "Bagoas will tell him I told you to come in my place. Gerald and Frank will just have to catch on. But don't tell Hephaestion anything. Let him think you're the MD."

"Wait - who's Hephaestion?" asked Cassander, feeling rather lost.

"The one with the long pretty hair," explained Alexander quickly, gesturing wildly. "He usually ties it up though."

Cassander laughed. "Okay?"

"It's almost nine. . . You should go now," said Alexander, getting up from his seat and ushering him out of his office.

* * *

"Ptolemy," said Bagoas, entering the meeting room. "Can I speak to you for a moment, please?"

"Of course," said Ptolemy, getting up from his seat and following Alexander's assistant out of the room.

"What's going on?" asked Hephaestion. Frank and Gerald shrugged.

When Ptolemy re-entered, he was followed by Cassander, who took the seat directly opposite of Hephaestion, drumming his fingers against the arms of the chair. When he saw Hephaestion, he found Alexander's description of him inadequate, but rather apt all the same. It was only when Hephaestion smiled at him nervously that he realised he had been staring.

Gerald and Frank looked at him strangely, and just as one of them was about to ask what he was doing in Alexander's seat, Ptolemy kicked them in the shins and gave them a meaningful look. It seemed to have had its desired effect when the two settled back down in their seats.

"You may begin your presentation," said Cassander, turning to face Ptolemy expectantly, grinning.

* * *

Alexander opened the file named "My Music", and laughed despite himself at finding several other files like "Lady Gaga - The Fame Monster" and "Susan Boyle - I Dreamed of A Dream".

"The hell are you doing in my office?" asked Cassander, the confident smile he always had on as though by default turning abruptly into a childish scowl.

"Nothing," said Alexander, backing away from the computer innocently.

"Bullshit, Alex," said Cassander, closing his files angrily.

"Say, what about I give you my office in exchange for yours?"

His anger seemed to abandon him to be replaced by puzzlement. "Why?"

Alexander seemed to consider the question. "Remember Hephaestion?"

Cassander shook his head.

"The one with the long hair."

"Oh."

"Well I kind of told him I was in the financial department. . ."

"And so you decided to go to all lengths necessary to make sure he never finds out you lied."

"I just don't want him to find out who I am."

"Why?" asked Cassander incredulously. "If you like this guy so much, why don't you just tell him the truth? He'd jump you."

"You don't understand," he clutched his head in frustration before looking up at his friend. "We met in high school. He thinks I got people to mess with him. I swear I didn't, Sander. But now he fucking hates me."

"Alex listen to yourself," Cassander held Alexander's face between his hands. "You sound like a pathetic teenager who doesn't get laid and whose life is screwed up to the tailbone. That is the last thing you are right now."

"I don't get laid, but I don't think that's relevant to what we're discussing."

"Move on," continued Cassander, ignoring his comment. "High school happened ten years ago. I'm sure Hephaestion doesn't even remember what happened there. And if he does, too bad for him. He needs to learn to suck it up."

"Don't say that," said Alexander as though Cassander had just expressed a desire to bed his mother. "Just do me the favor and pretend to be me wherever he's involved, okay?"

"The cover's gonna blow one way or another, Alex. You're gonna have to get the whole damn company to play along."

"Sander. Come on."

"Alex he's not worth the effort, trust me," said Cassander, exasperated. "I'll bet I could get him to sleep with with me as the managing director if I just tried."

"Don't even joke about that Cassander," said Alexander, losing his humor.

"Just to test him. . . You know what? I'll do it. I'll pretend to be you if that means I get to test him."

"Cassander," Alexander fixed his friend a glare. "That is not funny."

"Just a test, Alex. I won't do anything to him," Cassander leaned in. "I know you want me to."

"No I don't," scowled Alexander. "He hates me enough as it is. If he knew - "

"He never will."

"Promise me you won't try anything," Alexander looked into his friend's pale grey eyes.

Disconcerted, Cassander looked away and sighed. "You know my promises are worthless, Alex."

Cassander looked back to find the blonde still staring at him insistently.

"Fine, I promise."

* * *

"A man called your office twice today," said Bagoas, trailing after Alexander. "I asked to relay his message but he refused."

"Did he leave a name?" asked Alexander.

"No."

"Strange," muttered Alexander as a familiar figure caught his attention from the periphery of his vision. He turned on Bagoas, who started visibly at his boss's sudden movement. "Wait for me in my office."

Bagoas nodded and did as he was told.

"Hephaestion," said Alexander as the brunette walked past him.

"Alexander," said Hephaestion, stopping to regard the blonde.

"I wanted to apologize," said Alexander. "Whatever my friends did to you back then. . ."

"There's no _need_, Alexander," said Hephaestion, it was evident that he didn't want to bring up the subject, but not to Alexander. "I thought we agreed to put that behind us."

"We're friends then?" asked Alexander, his face lighting up with hope.

"We are colleagues," said Hepaestion in a way that indicated the end of the conversation, before walking away.

* * *

How could he expect him to just forget about everything he and his friends had put him through and "be friends" just like that? Hephaestion had been glad when Alexander hadn't spoken to him since his little "outburst", and was hoping that that was going to be the way things worked from then on. But now he knew he was to be sorely disappointed. Hephaestion wished he hadn't signed the two-year contract with the company so surely.

"Did you hear?" asked Frank, interrupting his internal monologue.

"Huh?"

"We'll be having an annual company trip to Las Vegas," Frank grinned at Hephaestion from over the barrier that separated their desks. "You joined us at just the right time."

"Yeah," said Gerald, leaning his elbow against the back of Hephaestion's chair. "You'll get to meet the rest of the company then, everyone will be there."

"Everyone? Including the people from the other departments?"

"Don't worry, there aren't a lot of people in the headquarters. Each department has about three to five people, so in all there should be twenty-five people at most."

Hephaestion nodded mutely, concealing his surprise at the fact that he was working at the headquarters on his first job. He wondered how he had overlooked the fact despite having already worked at the company for three weeks. "When was the trip again?"

"In a week," said Frank impatiently, as though they'd already mentioned it many times before.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **_Many thanks to everyone who's reviewed! The reviews are really the only things that fuel this story right now. You may notice that the chapters are coming almost everyday, and that's because I'm trying my best to complete this story by the end of this month since next year is going to be a busy one, and I probably won't be able to update at all. :( So do check in everyday for new chapters if you can! :) Anyway, I know it's pretty annoying reading chapter after chapter and still not having a full understanding on what happened to Hephaestion back at school, but please bear with it because you will find out when the time comes. Also, I was thinking of illustrating some of the scenes in the story for your benefit (as well as my own :)) so do leave a review or a message telling me what you think or any particular scenes you'd like to see illustrated. Now onto the story :)_

* * *

"You're kidding," said Cassander lazily into his phone as he waited for the elevator. "The wedding's in two days. . ."

"I can't find another partner in two goddamn days Sarah," he said, angrier this time. The elevator doors opened and two women stepped out, engaged in a conversation that involved cellulite. Cassander frowned briefly at the information as he stepped into the elevator. "You really should've told me beforehand."

"Hello? Sarah," he looked at the screen of his phone. There was no reception. "Dammit."

The elevator doors opened again and a man stepped in. "Good morning, Cassander."

"Morning," he said absently, before noticing who it was. He snickered. "Long pretty hair."

"I'm sorry?" said Hephaestion.

Cassander laughed again. "Did you know that some of your colleagues refer to you as that?"

The brunette blushed and let out a breath of embarrassed laughter. "Um, no."

Cassander smiled pleasantly. It wasn't a wonder why Alexander would take interest in the man - he was very good-looking. Cassander looked up at the elevator screen. "That's pretty weird, isn't it? Pretty creepy."

Hephaestion looked at Cassander, surprised. He chuckled. "Yeah. A little."

"But it's true though. You should let it down once in a while," Cassander looked at the other man when he didn't respond. Perhaps he didn't know how to. "Hephaestion, is it?"

Hephaestion nodded.

"I heard you hold PhDs in Mathematics, Chemistry and Engineering," said Cassander, remembering how Gerald had rambled on about the new addition to his team. "And a BFA in Visual Arts?"

Hephaestion nodded again, hiding his surprise at the managing director's thorough understanding of his academic background.

"We're lucky to have you in the company," said Cassander, grinning as he patted the man on his back, letting his hand linger there for a moment longer than was completely necessary. The elevator doors opened to the basement parking lot and he stepped out.

When he noticed that Hephaestion made no move to exit the elevator, he looked back at him. "Not your level? This is the lowest you can go."

"Uh," the brunette fumbled to press the lift button. Apparently he had forgotten to do so. Quite a big deal for a PhD-holder.

Cassander grinned. "Good talking to you." He caught a glimpse of Hephaestion nodding briefly before the doors closed between them.

* * *

_Was that normal?_ Hephaestion thought to himself. He shook his head vacantly. _No, that was totally not normal. Not normal behaviour between employer and employee and most definitely not normal behaviour between two men. _

But what was he so conscious about anyway? It was just a friendly pat on the back, any weird feelings brought about by it was just him and him alone. Hephaestion shook his head again. There was something very wrong with him.

_But he said it was true that I had "long pretty hair". He was obviously flirting. _

Compliments, thought Hephaestion before his thoughts went further along that vein, are just a form of good manners. That's right.

"What the hell kind of compliment is having "long pretty hair" for a healthy, masculine young man like me anyway?" said Hephaestion to himself, slightly angry now as he rubbed his thinly bearded chin, a nervous habit of his.

"A very weird one," commented Ptolemy dryly as he entered the elevator.

"You weren't supposed to hear that," said Hephaestion softly.

"I didn't think so," laughed Ptolemy before stopping himself when he remembered things weren't all that amicable between the both of them. "Sorry."

* * *

The next time Hephaestion ran into Cassander that day was at lunchtime, when he had stayed back at the breakroom to prepare the cup of instant noodles that he had brought to work. The managing director was facing away from him, apparently fixing himself a cup of coffee, and Hephaestion hesitated whether to return to his desk and wait for the man to leave the breakroom before entering again or simply to greet the man.

"Good afternoon, Hephaestion," said Cassander as he turned around, startling him. "Sorry, did I scare you? I saw your reflection." He gestured to the metal cupboard.

"No," laughed Hephaestion nervously, moving to pour hot water onto his noodles. He could feel the other man watching him intently as he did so. _This is way weird._

"Don't you eat at the cafeteria?"

Hephaestion remembered what Alexander had said about the quality of the food there. He had to agree with him on that. "It saves time to eat here."

Cassander frowned. "You have a lot of work to do?"

"Enough to keep me busy," shrugged Hephaestion, accidentally placing his hand under the flow of hot water. He retracted the hand, cursing softly.

"Are you okay?" asked Cassander.

_Oh, no. No, no, no. He is_ not_ going to take my hand and put it under the tap like I'm some helpless babe in arms._

Hephaestion exhaled deeply as the man did exactly that.

"Better?" asked Cassander.

"Yup, thanks," muttered Hephaestion, refusing to look at the man as he grabbed his cup of noodles and headed back to his desk.

"I brought you some cream," said Cassander as he entered the office room, carrying a yellow tube of first-aid cream. He pointed to Hephaestion's hand. "It looks pretty bad."

The brunette glanced down at his red and slightly swollen hand. He compared it with his other hand. It did look pretty bad.

"Thanks," he said, glad that Cassander had left the tube on the table and not tried to apply it on for him like Hephaestion had half-expected him to do.

"You're not getting lunch?" asked Hephaestion as Cassander pulled Frank's chair from his desk and set it next to Hephaestion's before sitting down himself, much like Alexander had done some weeks ago.

The man shook his head as he sipped his coffee. "Listen, Hephaestion. . . I have this wedding to attend in two days. I wrote plus one and I was hoping you could come with me."

"What?" Hephaestion hoped he had heard him wrongly.

"Not as a date," explained Cassander, laughing. "It's just that my date Sarah's flying off to Milan tonight for a show, and I don't want to turn up at the wedding alone."

_So he's straight, he has a girlfriend. _Hephaestion didn't want to admit that he was slightly disappointed. Maybe it's been too long since someone had last shown any remotely romantic interest in him. He'd spent all his teenage years on his studies, but he hadn't intended for his studying to impede in his love life but for it to distract himself from the less enjoyable things that were happening in his life at the time.

_Couldn't he ask someone else? Another guy friend perhaps, if he didn't want the girlfriend to misunderstand? We've only just met._

"Don't worry about rejecting me," said Cassander. "At worst, I'd fire you."

Hephaestion's jaw fell open and the other man laughed heartily at the expression. Hephaestion couldn't help from laughing as well.

"Don't be stupid," said Cassander, patting his knee fleetingly, but firmly. "No one in their right minds would fire someone like you."

"I'll be free that night," said Hephaestion. It felt like someone else had said those words.

Cassander's face seemed to brighten at that point. "Really?"

"Really," said Hephaestion, smiling despite himself, now that his heart had already decided for him. _It's not a date anyway, just a. . . hangout. _Hephaestion decided that he needed a friend.

* * *

"Hello?"

"Is this Alexander?"

"That is me. May I ask who this is?"

There was the sound of slow labored breathing. Then the line was cut.

"What the hell," mumbled Alexander under his breath as he hung up the phone. He called Bagoas into his office.

"Bagoas, that man who called a few days ago, has he still been calling?"

"Yes, he has," replied his assistant, looking slightly worried. "Should your number be changed?"

"I would appreciate that. Although it's probably just some crazy man who found the number on the yellow pages. . . If he calls again, don't bother entertaining him."

Bagoas nodded and then left the office.

* * *

"Something troubling you?" asked Roxane, pouring a small container of lemon juice prepared previously by her housekeeper Henriette, into her earl grey, and then pouring milk into Alexander's, knowing that he preferred his that way.

"You could tell?" asked Alexander. Of course she could tell, Alexander always wore his heart on his sleeve and Roxane had pretty much committed every one of his moods to memory and documentation. He sipped from his cup.

"Is it the new guy at the company?" asked Roxane, eyeing the blonde from above the rim of her cup as she pulled her shades back and secured it at the top of her head. Alexander looked at her strangely and she smiled. "Ptolemy told me all about it. Are you really using Cassander's office?"

"I forgot you had a mole in the company," said Alexander, walking onto the back porch and sitting in one of the recliners. He put the cup on the side table. "I'm not using his office."

"Do you like the guy?" Roxane sat down at the foot of his recliner.

"Hephaestion?"

"No, Cassander," Roxane rolled her eyes. "Of course I meant Hephaestion."

"Well, yeah," he said with a far-off look about his face. He chuckled into his cup. "Sometimes I think it doesn't even matter that he hates me."

"I'm happy for you, Alex," said Roxane, patting his thigh and getting up to leave. Alexander pulled her hand, stopping her.

"What would you do if you were me? How would you get him to forgive you?"

"Prove to him that you didn't play a part in any of it, whatever that happened to him," said Roxane as though it were the simplest logic.

Alexander let go of her hand. "But how?"

"Beats me," shrugged Roxane. She ruffled his hair. "I'm sure it'll come to you somehow."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Sorry this chapter took a longer time than usual. Also, if anybody's interested, I've gone ahead and done a couple illustrations for the first two chapters because I've always wanted to illustrate for a story. I've uploaded them on tumblr (alexanderitnol . tumblr . com) since deviantart is being a pain in the ass. Do leave a comment (or something) :)

* * *

_Hi, this is Cassander. Shall I pick you up tonight at 8?_

Hephaestion re-read the text message for the third time before finally he replied.

_How did you get my number? _

_I have your personal particulars. :) I'll pick you up from your place, sound good to you?_

Hephaestion was slightly unsettled by the idea, he much rathered the man just give him the address so they could meet there instead like two normal guys going out to kill time together with no sign of any romantic implications whatsoever.

He began to type: _Doesn't sound good, _before pausing to assess exactly how rude he sounded before pushing the backspace reluctantly and typing: _That would be nice. :) Sorry for the trouble._

As he had expected, Cassander replied: _No trouble at all. :)_

"Who're you texting?" asked Ptolemy, grinning over Hephaestion's shoulder. Instinctively the brunette shoved the phone down into his bag.

"Just a friend," Hephaestion smiled tightly.

"Ooh, so secretive," teased Frank from his desk at the other side of the office.

"What? It really is just a friend," Hephaestion was getting rather annoyed now. Why did everyone have to put the relationship between him and Cassander in such a light? Maybe if they hadn't said anything things wouldn't have seemed so non-platonic to Hephaestion and he wouldn't have to worry about getting the wrong idea because Cassander was obviously not interested in him, what with having a girlfriend and all. Hephaestion sighed. So this was really the crux of what bothered him. He wondered if he would've felt better if both he and Cassander were single, and flinched when the answer was yes.

"Okay," said Ptolemy with an awkward laugh as he handed him a stack of files. "I need you to help me with these."

"It's barely six," stated Hephaestion, gesturing toward the wall clock. "I'm sure you could finish these within an hour."

"I'm leaving early 'cos I have somewhere to be tonight."

"So do I. Why don't you ask Frank?" Hephaestion smiled sweetly.

Ptolemy glowered at him for a moment. "Fine."

* * *

"Alexander," said Bagoas, striding into the office.

Alexander looked up. "Anything the problem?"

"As you have asked, I've checked up on Oliver Kinney and found out that his late father had left him a tool store to manage single-handedly when he turned nineteen and he now lives alone in an apartment house two streets down from the high school that the both of you attended together. The apartment is also where his father was found dead about a month ago," said Bagoas in a single breath. When Alexander made no response, he continued. "That was also when we began receiving the anonymous phone calls at the office."

"Have you tracked the caller?"

Bagoas nodded in confirmation. "It leads to this address." He placed a sheet of paper on the desk. "Oliver Kinney's apartment."

It was getting too private. "Is there anything else?"

"I believe he was not trying very hard to be completely anonymous. If he had, the calls would have been made with public telephones, given that he knew we were in full capability of tracking his calls."

"That will be all," said Alexander dismissively, and when Bagoas seemed to linger as though he had questions to ask, he added offhandedly "I trust that anything regarding this issue will not reach the ears of anyone beyond this room."

"I will tell no one," said Bagoas readily before leaving the office, reconciling with the fact that his questions will have to go unanswered.

For several minutes Alexander simply sat alone in his office, repeating his assistant's words over and over again in his head.

He looked at his watch. It was 7:47. He had to be at the wedding party in less than an hour and he was hardly dressed for the occasion. He figured that if he was going to be late, he might as well give the party a miss and go pay his old friend a visit.

* * *

Alexander stood in the empty hallway and took a moment to take in the frayed wallpaper, moth-eaten carpet and the vague stench of cigarettes, before pressing the doorbell. There was the sound of footsteps approaching the door from inside the apartment and Alexander resisted the urge to whistle casually as he felt eyes looking through the peephole at him. He heard the resident pace about for several seconds before a lock was unbolted and the door opened.

"What're you doing here?" asked the shorter man. His bleached hair was growing brown at the roots and his face was pale and wide open, like a woman who had just been slapped.

"I wanted to see you," said Alexander uncertainly. The look on Oliver's face seemed to soften. "Can I come in?"

Reluctantly, Oliver stepped aside and let him enter. Alexander tarried at the entrance. The house was so dark, the only room that was lit was the bedroom, where Oliver had probably been before Alexander arrived. But even in the dark Alexander noticed the changes in the house from when he was last here. The walls were emptier now, the paintings gone, as was the disarray that used to give the home a cosy quality. Suddenly he remembered that Oliver's father had died here. "Take a seat."

Alexander did as he was told and clasped his hands together as he waited for the other man to return from the kitchen.

"Water?" Oliver set two glasses of water on the coffee table and sat in the armchair opposite.

"No thanks," said Alexander politely.

"You think I spiked it?"

"What? No," said Alexander truthfully. He bit back his tongue from asking if he did. That was an inappropriate question on so many levels.

Oliver leaned back in his chair. "Here to catch up with an old friend?"

Alexander frowned and dropped his gaze. "I'm sorry about your father. . . "

"Don't be. S'not like you killed him."

". . . What happened?"

"Cardiac arrest," his voice was barely above a whisper. "You know, I tried calling you the night I saw him. Don't know why, but you were the first person I thought of. . . He was just lying on the bathroom floor face-down. I was alone and I didn't know what to do, I just kept calling and calling but you never answered."

"One time you did though, but I realised I didn't know what to say," he laughed bitterly to himself.

"You could've told my assistant. I would've come to see you immediately."

Oliver shook his head and looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "Why are you here? Really."

Deciding not to skirt around the issue, Alexander exhaled deeply. "I uh, I wanted to talk to you about. . . Hephaestion."

Oliver cleared his throat and looked away. He seemed to know exactly what the man was referring to, it was as though he knew the time would come when the subject came up between them, only he hadn't expected it to be now. "What about him?"

"The things you did to him," said Alexander, having a hard time finding the right words. "Why?"

Oliver glanced at Alexander. "Why? You mean why I beat him up everyday?" seeing that his words were beginning to rile him up, Oliver continued. "Why I called him names, peed on his face and _raped_ him?"

"You _what_?" within a fraction of a second Alexander had his fists curled around the man's collar and Oliver's feet were no longer touching the ground.

The shorter man struggled for breath but by then Alexander's mind was lost, and even as Oliver's kicks caught him hard in the shins and brought them both to the ground, his grip on his neck never relinquished.

"Let. . . go," Oliver felt his lungs shrinking in on themselves and his vision was beginning to blur.

Alexander straddled the shorter man and slammed his head into the ground. "Why?"

"L-let go."

Seeing blue patches appearing on Oliver's face, he finally released his hold. The man gasped for breath and fell limp against the ground.

"Shit. Wake up," said Alexander as sense seemed to return to him, slapping the man across the cheeks.

Slowly, color began to return to his face and his eyes opened. When they became focused again he looked at Alexander and a giggle escaped his lips.

"What the fuck is your problem, Oliver?"

Oliver tried to sit up but his body felt paralysed. Apparently Alexander's stranglehold had managed to stop blood flow to his lower body. "You almost killed me."

"I'd still be a better man than you," spat Alexander.

As though Alexander hadn't said a word, Oliver just laid on the carpet, staring up at Alexander's face like a child who has found the favorite toy that he thought he'd lost forever. "You're still the same, Al."

"Don't call me that," said Alexander through gritted teeth.

"You used to call me Olli." He imitated Alexander's voice weakly. "'Olli, my man!' . . . That's what you always said."

* * *

_"Olli, my man!" Alexander moved in and gave his friend a one-armed hug. He patted his sweaty back, grinning. "Good game."_

_Oliver nodded, smiling as he watched Ptolemy jog toward them with water bottles. Alexander took one of them and emptied it over his own head, drenching his jersey. Oliver watched the taller blonde for a moment before seeming to catch himself and then following suit. Ptolemy saw the look in his eyes but kept mum anyway - it wasn't unusual for Alexander to have admirerers, male or female. _

_Alexander snapped his fingers in Ptolemy's face. "You okay? You're looking at Olli like you've never seen him before."_

_Oliver turned to look strangely at Ptolemy. "You're not a fag, are you?"_

_Alexander seemed to have something to say in response to that comment, perhaps on how uncalled-for or ridiculously assumptious it was, but seemed to decide against it when he chuckled nervously and looked at Ptolemy as though waiting for an answer._

_Ptolemy found it hard to believe how hypocritical his friends were being. "Get your head out of your ass, Kinney."_

_"Hey. HEY!" said Alexander, putting his hands between the two boys who were threatening to start a fist fight. _

_"Hey what's going on over there?" came the voice of their basketball coach from the other end of the court._

* * *

When he felt strength in his arms Oliver reached his hand up to brush Alexander's cheek, but the hand was instantly swatted away.

"You've always been such a goddamn asshole, Oliver." Alexander got to his feet. "Get up."

"I can't, my body is paralysed," said Oliver truthfully but defiantly.

Alexander hesitated, then sat down next to his motionless body. "Tell me what you did to him."

Oliver smirked. "More than you could ever dream of doing."

That earned him a tight slap across the face.

Oliver licked his split lip. "Why do you want to know? You can't undo what's already been done."

"I want to know how long you're going to be in jail."

The immobilised man glanced at Alexander and laughed, disbelieving. "You're not recording this, are you?"

"Do you have any intention of turning yourself in?"

Oliver shook his head, not daring to say another word with the possibility that they were being recorded.

Alexander seemed to consider his answer. "Then I'm not recording."

"You think I'm stupid?" spat Oliver, trying but failing once again to sit up. "Shit."

"What's wrong? Can't you get up?"

"I think I need the hospital."


	6. Chapter 6

The paramedics wheeled him into the ambulance. By then Oliver was slipping into unconsciousness. One of the uniformed men looked on Alexander as though prompting him to come along. Realising he was the only one at the scene who knew Oliver personally and was needed for particulars to be filled, he briskly approached the ambulance and climbed in.

Oliver's eyes were barely open and they focused on Alexander as though trying to steal a final moment before his eyes fell close. Alexander felt like an iceberg slid into his stomach and his hands flew to Oliver's sides, fearing for his life.

"Relax," said one of the paramedics, gesturing toward the heart monitor, which indicated that Oliver's heartrate was abnormally low, but that he was still alive. Slightly embarrassed for overreacting, Alexander settled back down in his seat and pulled out his cellphone.

* * *

"Excuse me," said Ptolemy to his date, who was laughing at something funny her friend had said, when he felt his phone vibrate in his dress pants. She nodded at him, smiling as he left the table.

"Alexander?" said Ptolemy into his phone, frowning as he entered the balcony outside the banquet hall. "I can't even begin to tell you how pissed off Roxane is right now. She was all ready waiting for you. . . What?"

"Hold on - who? . . . Oliver? Alright, we'll be on our way," he said, hanging up and entering the hall, casting his eyes over the people, looking for Cassander's face. It was nowhere to be found, so he approached the nearest table and interrupted their conversation politely.

"Have you seen Cassander?"

"I just saw them enter the balcony," giggled the girl.

"Them?"

She nodded with a knowing look. "I'm not sure if they want to be interrupted, though."

"Thanks," Ptolemy frowned but made his way to the balcony anyway.

* * *

"So how do you know the groom?" asked Hephaestion as they leaned over the reiling, wine glasses held in their hands. "Everyone seems so familiar with each other, it feels like a big family reunion."

Cassander smiled fondly. "It does, doesn't it? We all met in college, some of us in high school."

"And which college did you go to?" asked Hephaestion, taking a sip from his glass.

"Harvard. I met Alexander and Ptolemy there," said Cassander, taking a sip of wine as well. "And you?"

"Don't you already know?" laughed the man softly, peering downstairs. It was dark and the outside was lit by tall romanesque street lamps. A porsche was pulling in and a valet cordially approached the driver.

Cassander shrugged, chuckling. "Just making conversation."

"I studied at Dartmouth."

"I heard they serve good lasagna," said Cassander randomly.

Hephaestion's face broke into a grin and he laughed. Cassander drank in the moment, the sound of him and the sight of him. He was attracted to this man, no doubt, but he wouldn't let himself get too attached, he would extract himself before his roots grew too deep. He would make sure they went back to being strangers before his cover was even close to blowing.

"I've been meaning to ask," said Hephaestion, interrupting his thoughts as he turned so he faced Cassander. Cassander turned to face him as well, giving him his full attention. "Why did you ask me when there are so many others, closer friends, you could count on to come with you?"

Cassander considered if it was the right time to steer their relationship toward the direction he intended, if he could risk being rejected. "Why do you think?"

The man flushed at the intimation in his question. "Don't answer a question with another, Cassander."

In a congenital move, Cassander's hand trailed up Hephaestion's arm, drawing him closer. He was surprised to find himself nervous, anticipative of the man's response. He thought he saw desire in those flawless blue eyes, and he moved in to plant his own lips on Hephaestion's before he could run away.

It felt amazing and for a moment he decided selfishly that he would keep this man for himself and Alexander could go ahead and marry Roxane and have babies even, for all he cared. Only when Hephaestion's hands came up to his chest to push him away did he remember that the relationship between them right now was a lie that would not last. He hated that his heart ached for the loss of something he didn't even have in the first place.

"Oh god," said Hephaestion, hiding his face in his hands.

Cassander's arms wrapped around Hephaestion's lean frame, comforting him.

"It's wrong, Cassander," Hephaestion stepped away from his embrace.

Cassander couldn't help himself from laughing. "Hephaestion, it's the twenty-first century and we're living in a state where even marriage is legal now."

"What are you talking about?" asked Hephaestion, incensed.

"What are _you_ talking about?"

Someone cleared their throat and both men turned to face Ptolemy.

"Sorry to interrupt," said Ptolemy awkwardly, readjusting the glasses on his nose. "We need to go, Cassander."

"Go where?" asked Cassander, making it obvious that Ptolemy's presence was not wanted. "I can't just leave him here."

Ptolemy looked to Hephaestion. So this was where he had to go after work. What was Cassander up to? He thought they all knew very well what Hephaestion meant to Alexander. There were so many questions he wanted to ask but he knew now was not the time. "We could send you home on our way."

Hephaestion immediately shook his head. "No, I'm good. I'll go back on my own."

"But it's late," said Cassander, moving as though to touch Hephaestion, who stepped away.

"Thanks for tonight," said Hephaestion politely before leaving them.

Ptolemy turned back to face Cassander. "Alexander is at the hospital. Apparently he injured someone pretty badly."

* * *

The trip to the hospital was quiet despite everything that needed to be cleared up.

The first one to break the palpable silence however was Cassander. "You saw everything?"

"Saw what?" asked Ptolemy, eyes never leaving the road in front of them, despite knowing full well what his friend was referring to. But before Cassander could answer, his urgency to know what was going on in Cassander's head rushed back to him. "What were you _thinking_? Bringing Hephaestion with you? Alexander was going to be at the wedding! What happened to Sarah?"

"He didn't come in the end, though, did he?" said Cassander as though he was bored of the conversation. "Did you see us?"

"See what? I interrupted the both of you the moment I found you," lied Ptolemy quickly.

Cassander nodded blankly. He frowned. "Who was it that Alexander landed in hospital again?"

"Oliver. Oliver Kinney," said Ptolemy glancing at his friend to see that he was still clueless. "We met in high school. I'd say he's a real pain in the ass."

"Wouldn't be a wonder why he's in hospital then," chuckled Cassander, slouching into his seat.

"So what're you planning? With Hephaestion," asked Ptolemy, insistent on finding an answer. He and the man weren't exactly on good terms, but still he felt partially responsible for the hurt he went through in their teenage years, and he couldn't just sit back and watch him get hurt again like he did back then.

"I'm not planning anything," said Cassander, looking pointedly out the window. It was starting to drizzle. "Sarah had to go to Milan for a show at the last minute and he was right there. So I asked."

"Despite knowing that Alex is crazy about him?"

Cassander sat up higher in his seat and squinted at the road. "Not exactly despite. More _because_ I know Alex is crazy about him."

Ptolemy shook his head. "I don't catch your drift."

"Hephaestion is a pretty boy, we all know that," explained Cassander as though Ptolemy were a three-year-old. "And pretty boys tend to use their prettiness to get the things they want. And people tend to want money and power. Alexander, in this case, is the epitome of those two things. Catch my drift now?"

"So you're saying our buddy Alex is a sugar daddy and Hephaestion is a gold-digger," observed Ptolemy, joking.

"Precisely," said Cassander laughing as well.

"Both accusations of which are wrong," continued Ptolemy. "I know him, Hephaestion takes his relationships seriously and he will be true if he knows that you are. But if you breach that trust," he said this with a melancholic tone, as though he was speaking from experience. "It will be hard to patch things together again."

"Right," said Cassander noncommittally, trying to sound unconvinced when a part of him was ready to agree.

"All I'm saying is, if possible, don't do anything that you would regret."

"I won't," said Cassander truthfully. "So tell me about Hephaestion, since you seem to know him so well. What was he like in high school?"

* * *

_Oliver leaned in, whispering into Gordon's ear, as he watched Hephaestion enter the shower, shut the door, and drape his towel and clothing over it. Gordon sniggered and nudged Ptolemy, letting him in on their childish prank. _

_"That's a lame idea," frowned Ptolemy._

_"Fuck off, Ptolemy. It was Al's idea," said Oliver when Gordon's enthusiasm seemed to falter at Ptolemy's opinion. _

_"Guys, I'm going off first," called Alexander from the locker room, swinging his duffel bag over his shoulder. "Got a detention to catch."_

_"Yeah, see you," they said as he left. _

_Swiftly, Oliver reached for Hephaestion's clothes and passed them to Gordon, telling him quietly to hang them on the flag pole at the hall. The tall dopey guy nodded, grinning, and left to do as told. _

_"Let's get the fuck out of here, man," whispered Oliver, pulling Ptolemy by the arm, and Ptolemy was ashamed at the thrill he felt when he wondered what Hephaestion would do when he found out he had nothing to wear out of the shower room._

_Hephaestion turned around in the shower, ready to dry himself, only to find that his clothes were no longer where he left them. Feeling slightly panicked, he told himself that his things must have fallen off the door and landed on the other side of it, but as he opened the door he found that the place was empty. It was then that he really started to panic. He had an idea who had done this but he couldn't for the life of him understand why. He had done nothing to offend Oliver. _

_Remembering he had spare clothes in his locker, he decided to rush there, that being the only thing he could do. It was almost time to switch classes so he had to make it there before the bell rung and everyone would go to their lockers._

_Creeping out of the locker room, he ran to the hallways, hearing black blood pumping in his ears. To his horror, the bell rang and people began filing out of classrooms. "Shit!"_

_"Oh my god," he heard some girls giggling. He turned around and everyone was pointing at him. They were encircling him._

_"He doesn't even have hair down there yet," one of the boys said, laughing loudly. _

_Seeing tears begin to cloud his vision, Hephaestion pushed past the people and ran toward his locker. And then he knocked into someone._

_"Whoah," said Alexander from the impact, before realising Hephaestion's state of undress and then blushing uncontrollably. He laughed to hide his embarrassment, but it seemed to be mistaken for a derisive laugh when Hephaestion violently pushed him away and ran on. "Are you streaking?"_

_But Hephaestion didn't hear him, couldn't hear him from the blood that was still pumping loudly in his ears. It was only when he reached his locker that he remembered he didn't have his keys. He cried out in desperation and anger as he slammed his fists into the metal locker, trying to break it open, only to immediately regret the move when blood began to trickle from his knuckles. He was painfully aware of stunned eyes upon his back and for several moments he simply stood naked in front of his locker, crying softly against the metal, until someone came and wrapped a towel around him._

_Hephaestion turned to find Ptolemy, a withered smile on his face. He was overcome by the gratefulness he felt for having a friend like him and dug his face into the boy's shoulder, unable to stop crying._

_"I'm sorry," whispered Ptolemy._

_Hephaestion looked up, about to ask what he was sorry for but finding the answer in his eyes. The smaller boy scowled and pushed Ptolemy away. "Get **away** from me."_

* * *

"I never knew Hephaestion very well," said Ptolemy, his mouth suddenly dry, as he remembered the day their friendship fell apart. He pulled over and they stepped out of the car, shielding their heads from the rain as they jogged into the hospital.


	7. Chapter 7

"Guys," called Alexander when he caught sight of his two friends. They jogged toward him. He was glad for their presence, though he knew they would be of not much practical help, but at least now he wasn't alone.

"What happened?" asked Cassander, as they sat on either sides of Alexander.

"I don't know," said the blonde, tugging at his hair. "I lost my head."

"What were you doing at his house?" asked Ptolemy.

"I wanted to talk to him about Hephaestion," he mumbled and rubbed at his face, exhaustion was written all over it. "He pissed me off and I strangled him."

"C'mon, Alex," Cassander massaged Alexander's neck with one hand and then patted his back. "I'm sure he'll be okay."

"I _strangled_ him, Sander. Almost killed him," said Alexander softly.

"We'll see how things go," said Ptolemy, ruffling Alexander's hair and looking to the doors of the Emergency Room.

The three sat outside the room for some thirty minutes before the doors to the Emergency Room opened and a doctor stepped out, pulling off rubber gloves that, to Alexander's relief, were not stained red.

"The patient is fine, but he requires some rest," said the doctor. "There was compression on his catorid artery, cutting oxygen supply to the head and neck and causing cerebral ischemia. When he wakes, he may experience weakness in his limbs or maybe even blindness. I cannot say as of yet if these sysmptoms will be permanent, but it is certain that his life is not in danger."

"Thank you," breathed Alexander and the doctor nodded before leaving them.

"See? Everything's fine," smiled Cassander.

Alexander shook his head. "What if I crippled him?"

His friends didn't know the words to say that could comfort him.

* * *

When Oliver awoke, he saw Alexander sitting on a couch by his bed, his head propped up on his elbow and his mouth slightly ajar in wonder of his dreams. Oliver thought _he_ was dreaming. He could still remember the last time he watched Alexander sleep. It was ages ago, the both of them were serving detention together, wiping basketballs. Alexander had dozed off halfway through in the hot and stuffy store room, and Oliver had crawled over to him just to have a closer look at his sleeping face. Why was Alexander still here by his side? Had he been waiting for him to wake?

Oliver snorted bitterly. Of course, he had. He wanted to know more about what he did to Hephaestion back at school. He couldn't understand how Alexander could be interested in a guy like him, when he had the attention from others of much higher caliber.

"You're awake," said Alexander, his voice raspy from disuse. He approached the bed. "How are you feeling?"

Oliver tested his limbs and found that the left side of his body was weak. "I'm fine."

Alexander looked relieved, but he did not smile. The sight of Oliver well again rekindled his fury from the previous night.

"Are you going to stand there all day?" asked Oliver, his voice sounding weaker and more tired than he intended.

". . . Do you want water?"

Oliver nodded, wanting but not daring to think that the other man cared if he was thirsty.

Alexander poured him a glass of water and sat down on the seat nearest to the bed. Oliver noted suddenly that he was in a first class ward. He could never afford to stay here but he knew Alexander could. Perhaps he was paying for it out of guilt for having landed him in hospital.

He looked at Alexander. He was still dressed in the clothes that he wore the day before. His face was unshaven and his hair, unkempt. He was in this state because of Oliver, and the latter felt a small amount of childish pride for that. Alexander always looked his best.

"Were you here all night?"

"I just wanted to know I didn't cripple or blind you," said the blonde defensively.

"Now that you know, you may go," said Oliver, not feeling up to dealing with Alexander if he was going to be difficult.

"I'm not done with you," Alexander was obviously trying to curb his temper. "We need to talk."

"Then talk," Oliver leaned back and crossed his arms.

Alexander looked at him. "I need to know if you're going to charge me for assault, so I know when to call my lawyer."

"I'm not going to charge you with anything." It was a ridiculous idea that had never even crossed Oliver's mind.

"Why not?"

"Why should I?"

"Because I _did_ assault you," said Alexander like it was a matter of fact. "And I will take responsibility for my actions."

Oliver frowned. "I'm not going to charge you with anything."

"Why the hell not?" asked Alexander, his temper rising. "I'm not going to owe you anything."

"What the fuck is your problem? I said I'm not charging you with anything and that's that. You don't owe me anything."

"Why?"

Oliver was silent for several moments and then he dropped his gaze and spoke softly. "I could never do anything that could hurt you."

Alexander thought he'd heard wrongly but they were the only ones in the room and it was too quiet not to hear every single word. Alexander cleared his throat awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

"Pretend I didn't say anything," said Oliver angrily, pulling the blanket up his torso as though it kept his dignity safe.

When Alexander finally found his words again he asked "Is that why you did those things to Hephaestion?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Were you jealous of him?"

"Never," growled Oliver softly. He could never be jealous of such a loser as Hephaestion. Oliver looked at Alexander. "Don't flatter yourself."

By now Alexander had learned to read past spoken words. He no longer took things at face value. "You were the only one who knew about how I felt for Hephaestion. I trusted you with the secret. So you've been gay the whole time, telling me it wasn't right, telling me it was disgusting to be attracted to another man? I believed you, I tried to deny my feelings when in fact you were just jealous of Hephaestion. That's why you did those things."

"So what?" whispered Oliver harshly. "So what if I did? Hephaestion hated you from the beginning. He was never a threat to me."

"A threat?" Alexander couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I can't stand the sight of you."

Oliver watched as Alexander stood to leave and slammed the door behind him, the only sound left in the room was that of his own harsh breathing.

* * *

Ptolemy saw Alexander stomping out of the ward and tried to stop him.

"Get out of my way," growled Alexander, pushing his friend away.

"What's wrong?"

Alexander's steps didn't falter, and Ptolemy followed after him. "Alex, talk to me."

Finally, when they entered the elevator, Alexander faced Ptolemy. He looked close to tears. "I need to see Hephaestion. I miss him so much."

"What? Why? What happened in there?"

Alexander dug his fingers into his hair. "I don't know, Lemy, I'm so tired. I just want to see Hephaestion. I want to tell him everything."

"Is Oliver going to charge you with assault?"

The distressed blonde shook his head and swallowed audibly.

"Let's get you home first, okay?" said Ptolemy like a comforting mother. "We'll get you changed and then you can go to the office."

Alexander nodded mutely and let himself be led into Ptolemy's car.

* * *

Alexander had slept well during their drive back to Alexander's apartment, and Ptolemy hesitated to wake him when they finally reached.

"Alex. Buddy, wake up," said Ptolemy, nudging the blonde's shoulder.

With a groan Alexander stretched, several bones popping in his back as he did, and stepped out of the car. He smiled contentedly. "Thanks, Lemy."

"No trouble," smiled Ptolemy, glad that his friend was in a better mood now.

Ptolemy hung his jacket on the coat rack and picked up the phone to call Bagoas and explain their tardiness, while Alexander went upstairs to take a shower.

Once the phonecall was made, Ptolemy looked into the fridge, wondering if there was anything he could cook within ten minutes. There was only beer, a plate of half-eaten pizza that he didn't even want to touch let alone eat, and some raw carrots. He could see why his friend always stayed out late at the office and hardly ever went home. There was nothing to look forward to at home - Alexander lived alone, had an empty fridge and the house felt vacant, unused, more like a hotel than a house. Ptolemy spotted a neatly-packed leather suitcase sitting next to the sofa. Alexander sure was looking forward to the company trip.

"I'm ready," said Alexander, coming down the stairs. His face was shaven, his hair was neat and his eyes were bright. It was good to see.

"Let's go somewhere for breakfirst before we head to work."

"No, you go without me," said Alexander, shrugging on a blazer. "I need to see Hephaestion."

Ptolemy had hoped he would forget that plan. "What will you tell him?"

"Everything," said Alexander simply. "I'll tell him that I know what happened to him and that I will be there to support him. . . if he needs me."

"What? Why would he need your support?"

"Oh you don't know, Lemy," began Alexander, wanting to tell his friend of the ordeals Hephaestion was forced to go through, before a thought struck him. He frowned deeply and took a small step back. "You _do_ know."

"Know what?"

Alexander looked broken, almost like he had earlier in the morning. "How could you let it happen? He was just a kid."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Hephaestion's rape."

Ptolemy laughed incredulously but stopped himself before Alexander blew a fuse. "Really, what's going on in that head of yours, Alex? Since when was Hephaestion raped? That's just crazy."

"Oliver told me," said Alexander, unsettled by Ptolemy's reaction. "He couldn't have done it himself."

"Exactly," stated Ptolemy. "He couldn't have done it himself, and none of us would've helped him do such a thing."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Don't you know those people? They wouldn't have dared. Sure, they'd push him around, call him names, but they would _never _hurt Hephaestion like that. I would never allow it. Even if he said it was your idea."

"I trust you, but I trusted Oliver and look what became of it."

Ptolemy frowned, putting a hand on Alexander's shoulder. "He just said it out of spite. I'm glad we've discussed this before you went and spoke to Hephaestion about it. What else did Oliver tell you?"

"I don't remember, he didn't tell me much," said Alexander, wanting to get off the subject. He didn't know what to think anymore. "Let's just get to the office."

"Alex wait," said Ptolemy, stopping him. He looked hesitant to continue. "I don't know how to say this, but. . . if you set Cassander up to see if Hephaestion is the sort who would. . . be with someone because of the power and riches that came with it, I don't think it's the right thing to do. Hephaestion is a good guy, he doesn't deserve this."

Alexander frowned. "Why are you saying this? Did Cassander do something?"

"He told me, he said he was doing it for your sake," Ptolemy sighed. "But it's not right, Alex. It's not a game, you can't play Hephaestion like that."

"What did Cassander do?"

At this point it became evident to Ptolemy that Cassander had not acted according to Alexander's wishes. "Nothing, he did nothing."

"Just tell me, Lemy."

"He turned up at the wedding with Hephaestion, that's all," said Ptolemy, urging the blonde into the car. "I was thinking too much."

"What did he say he was doing for my sake?"

Ptolemy was never any good at improvisation. He wished he hadn't mentioned Hephaestion and Cassander because he couldn't lie in good conscience. "I saw the both of them kissing at the balcony."

"Oh," said Alexander softly. He felt a cold grip on his heart. Cassander had made his move, even though he had given him his word. But of course, Alexander should've believed him when he said his word was no good. He had no right to get angry now, to claim Hephaestion for his own when the man obviously did not return his feelings.

Ptolemy glanced at Alexander, worried, before looking back onto the road "Let it go, Alex. Don't let it ruin our friendship."

"I know. I just - I'm worried that someone will end up getting hurt. . . when Hephaestion finds out."

Ptolemy was taken by surprise to see Alexander reacting so calmly to the news. "I'll talk to Cassander about it. And you too, you should tell him the truth. There's no point in lying. Put an end to all this, really, there's no point."

Alexander tried to remember why he had even lied to Hephaestion in the first place. Perhaps he didn't want Hephaestion to think that his life was perfect, perhaps he'd wanted to get to know Hephaestion under the guise of a more approachable status, but Cassander seemed to be doing pretty well in his place.

He hadn't felt so sad for himself, not since high school, when he'd had to see Hephaestion everyday and force himself to deny the way he felt for him. Since they'd graduated, he'd never had any interest in anyone else because he would find himself unconsciously measuring them against his memory of Hephaestion and needless to say, all of them would pale in comparison. There had only been one other person he'd experimented with in college, but Alexander had been deterred by the implications of a relationship and ended up breaking the man's heart.

And as the fates would have it, Hephaestion was working at their company now, and everyday they were within a thirty mile radius of each other. Alexander thought his second chance had come, but seeing the recent turn of events, he didn't have much faith to hold onto.


	8. Chapter 8

The train ride home was long and pensive as Hephaestion reflected on the night he'd just had. As promised, Cassander had arrived at his apartment at 8 in a porsche that Hephaestion noted inwardly looked a tad too flashy in the background of his neighbourhood, and when they arrived at the hotel Hephaestion scanned the crowd for familiar faces. There were none, but all of them seemed to know each other, every newcomer to the room was warmly welcome. It was hard to feel like an outsider.

Arriving home, Hephaestion peered into his grandmother's room, noting that the entire house was dark. Hephaestion smiled at her sleeping form, and then went to take a shower before returning to his own room.

"Maxie, my love," cooed Hephaestion, throwing his towel on the bed and kneeling down at the door with open arms. The pug rolled from his back and hopped toward his owner, snorting happily. Hephaestion kissed the small dog on its cheek, smelling his spit. "How are you today?"

He dropped himself on the bed and the dog struggled out of his hold to lay on the man's stomach, staring up into his blue eyes as though asking him to tell a story. So Hephaestion told him about his day, dithering when he reached the part of the story where Cassander led him out to the balcony to take a breather. His mind immediately fast-forwarded to the kiss. It was embarrassing to think, let alone say, but it was his first kiss, and he was already twenty-seven. Of course, there had been times when he thought he would come close to kissing someone, but he would always back out in the last minute. And even those times were few and far between, friends would always tell him how people who didn't know him personally thought he was intimidating, insociable, even arrogant.

He screamed into Maxie's stomach, and the dog snorted, patting Hephaestion's head with his paws like he was trying to swim away.

"Oh god," said Hephaestion, leaning back on his pillow, echoing what he'd said at the balcony. Maxie moved to lay next to his torso, spooning it. "Maxie what should I do? He kissed me and I kissed him back. Does that make me gay?"

Hephaestion flipped over and groaned into his pillow, sending Maxie rolling off onto the other side of the bed with the sudden movement. The pug hurried back to Hephaestion's side, spooning him again.

"And that's not the only problem, Maxie," said Hephaestion, his voice muffled by the pillow. He propped himself up on an elbow. "Cassander has a girlfriend. What if he's not even gay? What if the kiss was just his idea of being friendly and I totally got the wrong idea?"

As if on cue, the telephone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hephaestion. Hi," Hephaestion immediately recognized the voice and sat up in his bed. "It's Cassander."

"Hi."

"How are you?"

"I'm. . . fine."

"I wanted to talk to you about what happened tonight. . ."

Hephaestion nodded as though the other man could see it, and pulled his wet hair from his face.

"I'm sorry - if it offended you, but. . . I don't regret it. I've wanted to do it since the day I saw you." Hephaestion was relieved that he hadn't misunderstood.

"But what about your girlfriend?" Maxie pounced onto Hephaestion and he chuckled, pushing him away.

Cassander laughed. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Don't try to change the subject."

Cassander sighed. "I don't have a girlfriend. If you have it in your head that it's Sarah then you thought wrong. She's just another one of our friends from Harvard."

Hephaestion smiled. "Really?"

"Really," laughed Cassander. "I wish I told you this in person. I want to see your face."

Hephaestion blushed and hugged Maxie tight against his chest.

"Do you, um, do you want to take our relationship further?"

The smile on Hephaestion's face fell as he thought for an answer. He had forgotten about the repercussions that being in a relationship with someone from the company, least of all the managing director, would bring about. He knew for a fact that Cassander's being MD played no role in his attraction to him, but others didn't. Tongues would wag, and Hephaestion wasn't sure if workplace relationships were even permitted. "I don't know."

"I understand," said Cassander quickly as though he was prepared for that answer. "You need time. I just hope we won't be strangers."

Hephaestion smiled. "Of course not."

"So I'll see you tomorrow at work?"

"Mhm."

"Good night, then."

"Good night," said Hephaestion and waited for Cassander to hang up before hanging up himself.

* * *

"You look listless," commented someone as he caught up with him. Alexander was surprised to see Hephaestion. The brunette smiled. "Good morning."

"Good morning," smiled Alexander, trying to hide his disbelief. "How are you?"

"I'm great," said Hephaestion truthfully as they walked to the elevator. "What about you?"

"I'm good," Alexander pressed the elevator button, vaguely aware of the reason behind the man's high spirits, but not willing to let his mind venture there. He was glad that Hephaestion was happy.

Hephaestion knew the blonde to be lying but he didn't want to ask him about it. They weren't that close. The elevator doors opened and the two stepped in, letting a somewhat comfortable silence fall between them. At the third floor Cassander joined them. It was now that the silence became uncomfortable.

Hephaestion wanted to talk to Cassander, but wasn't sure where their relationship stood in the office, so he kept silent, hoping the other man would do the job of approaching him.

"We need to talk," whispered Alexander into Cassander's ear before pulling him out with him when the elevator doors opened on the fifth floor. Hephaestion was puzzled, Cassander had pressed the lift button to stop at the eighth floor.

* * *

Alexander let go of his friend. "I think you know what this is about."

"I don't," Cassander shook his head innocently. "Alex how's Oliver? Is he suing you?"

"He's not," said Alexander curtly. "You promised me you wouldn't try anything with Hephaestion."

Involuntarily, Cassander looked away, having not expected Alexander to find out so soon.

"Look at me," said Alexander, feeling anger build up at his friend's guilty gesture.

"I'm doing it for you, Alex," lied Cassander. It was the only thing he knew to do.

"Drop the act, Cassander," said Alexander, wanting to tell Hephaestion who he really was, but treasuring their new-found cordiality too much to take the risk. "Don't mislead him. He already has feelings for you."

"Feelings for me or for the favor of the MD?" asked Cassander, despite knowing what the real answer was.

"I don't care for _any_ of that. I just want to know that Hephaestion will not get hurt from any of this. From you."

"He won't."

"Then you will not so much as talk to him again."

Cassander nodded.

"Don't lie to me, Cassander," warned Alexander. "I will find out."


	9. Chapter 9

"Do you always walk around the house like that?" asked an amused voice as Hephaestion walked across the hall. The brunette started violently and clutched the towel tight around his hips.

Hephaestion glared at Alexander. He was sitting on the sofa petting Maxie, who seemed to welcome the new company. Hephaestion was chafed by how comfortable the man had made himself in his home. "How the hell did you get in here?"

"I -"

"Grandma!" called Hephaestion, stalking around the house, peering into each room to find that his grandmother was nowhere in sight, before returning to the hall. "Did she let you in?"

Alexander nodded dumbly. His gaze kept gravitating toward Hephaestion's chiseled torso and down to the damp towel that veiled his groin, no matter how hard he tried to look away. What knawed at him were the several scars he saw between Hephaestion's ribs, they looked like they were inflicted by burns.

As though noticing his scrutiny, Hephaestion flushed and hurried into his room. When he returned he was wearing a tee shirt and a pair of flannel pants, but his hair was still wet and uncombed. Alexander felt an almost irresistable urge to walk up to him and run his hands through his long hair before claiming a kiss. It felt like the most natural thing to do.

Hephaestion pulled Maxie out of his arms. "What're you doing here? It's Sunday."

Alexander laughed as the pug struggled in vain to stay put on his lap. "Your dog is cute. What's his name?"

"Maxie," said Hephaestion distractedly, still trying to calm the pug.

"I didn't know you lived with your grandmother. She's a sweet woman."

"She's my only kin now," said Hephaestion before he could think, and as though sensing the seriousness of the statement, Maxie calmed and slumped his slightly large head over Hephaestion's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," said Alexander, letting his gaze fall. He could sympathize with the man.

Hephaestion shook his head, and Alexander felt the water droplets fall onto his skin. He felt pathetic for marvelling at their first, albeit indirect, contact since their high school days. "Did you want something?"

"Oh," said Alexander as though only just remembering why he had come. "Um, it's about the company trip. We drew lots and I got your name. So we'll be sharing a room."

"Oh. Wow, okay," said Hephaestion, shifting his weight onto his back foot. Alexander suddenly became aware that Hephaestion had been standing the whole time, so he stood. In response Hephaestion sat down, even though there was plenty of space on the sofa for the two of them. Maxie jumped down from Hephaestion's lap to chew on the hem of Alexander's pants.

". . . Is there a problem?" asked Alexander, oblivious to Maxie's adventures.

"It's not exactly fair, is it? I mean I think we should get to decide who we want to sleep with," Hephaestion blushed at registering what he had said. "Who we want to share beds - rooms with."

"Well. . . Drawing lots has always been the way for the company," said Alexander, shrugging. He couldn't believe his own luck when he drew Hephaestion's name. While he watched everyone else scramble to switch lots, he had held on tight to Hephaestion's name like a drowning man to a lifebuoy. "It promotes bonding. Probably. Something like that."

"Don't you have any objections?" asked Hephaestion, nudging Maxie with his toes in an attempt to stop him from chewing on Alexander's pants. He looked up at Alexander. "He's chewing on your pants."

"It's fine," laughed Alexander, waving the matter off.

"But that's not what I was talking about. I meant us sharing a room. Don't you have any objections?"

Alexander chuckled and folded his arms. "Do you snore?"

"No," said Hephaestion as though he was insulted.

"Then why would I have any objections?" laughed Alexander, secretly telling himself that he wouldn't compain even if Hephaestion had murderous somnambulation issues.

"Because - " said Hephaestion, remembering how they had promised each other that their past would be forgotten and never spoken of. "I don't know. Maybe it's a good way for us to get a fresh start."

Alexander beamed, pulling Maxie from the floor into his arms and hugging him tight. The pug licked his face.

"That still doesn't explain why you had to break and enter into my house," said Hephaestion, standing up as though ready to usher the man out.

"I have a chauffeur to drive my car back when we board the flight, so I thought I'd come and pick you up, and then we'll go to -"

"Wait, what?"

Alexander frowned. "I have a chauffeur -"

"You're saying the flight is today?"

Alexander laughed out loud at the brunette's expression. "Don't tell me you haven't packed."

"Shit!" cursed Hephaestion as he ran into his room and began throwing his clothes into his suitcase. Alexander walked into the room, still laughing as he leaned against the door frame.

"Somehow I had it in my head that the flight was _next_ Sunday," muttered Hephaestion. So much was happening, just three days ago he'd gone to a wedding with Cassander and lost his first kiss. He batted the thought away. "The flight's at ten, right?"

Alexander nodded, looking to his watch. "At least you got _that_ right. It's almost eight-thirty."

"Shit," Hephaestion realised that he was short of underwear. "They're all in the wash."

"What?"

"My underwear," blurted Hephaestion before he could stop himself.

Alexander blushed and chuckled. "Um, if you don't mind, I have some extras. . . "

Hephaestion tucked his slowly drying hair behind his ears to prevent them from falling in front of his face. "No thanks."

"They're new."

"No thanks," said Hephaestion again, before glancing briefly at Alexander's crotch area. The blonde blushed an even deeper red, not missing the sizing-up. "They wouldn't fit me anyway. I'll just buy new ones while we're there."

Alexander nodded mutely before excusing himself from the room, not trusting himself to be in the same room as the man at the moment. He wondered how he would survive the trip having to sleep in the same room as Hephaestion every night, but knew he wouldn't have had it any other way.

Hephaestion left a post-it note on the refrigerator that said:

_Dear Grandma,_

_You let a strange man into the house and I was in a towel. I did not appreciate that. You don't love me. Anyway, I'm off on a company trip and will be back before you even notice I'm gone. Remember to feed Maxie._

_Love,_

_Hephaestion_

Alexander laughed softly at seeing it, feeling quite certain that he had fallen even more in love with the man. He'd only had the company of his grandmother for several minutes before she deemed him decent enough to enter the house while her grandson was in the shower, and left to "do some shopping". Alexander hoped they would get a chance to meet again, and then perhaps he could curry favor from the grandmother and he just might get through to Hephaestion.

When Hephaestion was finally done packing, and the two were at the door, Maxie hopped out of nowhere and sank his teeth into Hephaestion's pants, as though knowing that he wouldn't return until after a while. Hephaestion looked down at the pug and bit his lip, he wasn't prepared to leave him just yet, he was so sure the flight was on the following Sunday.

Seeing the longing look, Alexander spoke up. "You know Maxie could come with us."

"How? It's too late to make the arrangements."

"Not if we take a private plane."

"What?" Hephaestion laughed at the sheer ludicracy of the suggestion.

"I uh, I have some savings," spluttered Alexander, shrugging.

"That's a stupid idea," scolded Hephaestion, crouching down to gently and skilfully dislodge the pug from his pants. He kissed it good bye between the ears and stood. "Let's go."

* * *

During the entire length of the journey to the airport Hephaestion had been trying to ask, in a casual, nonchalant, blase manner, whether Cassander was joining them on the trip, until he gave up on the pretense and simply asked the question.

"So is Cassander joining us on the trip?" asked Hephaestion.

Alexander had been laughing at a joke Ptolemy had told, but now his face fell conspicuously at Hephaestion's question. Ptolemy had also stopped laughing. "Why do you ask?"

"Just a question," laughed Hephaestion as though Alexander was being strange.

"He is. But he won't be travelling so much with us. He's in another group."

"Oh," said Hephaestion, disappointed. There were about twenty-five of them on the company trip and the number was divided into five groups of five. Those in Alexander and Hephaestion's group included Ptolemy, Gerald and Frank - a perfect arrangement mostly due to the switching of lots.

The disappointment in Hephaestion's voice did not go unnoticed by Alexander. He hoped that the man would quickly learn to get used to Cassander's absence.

"Don't be sad," teased Frank, nudging Hephaestion with his shoulder. "You'll get to see him."

"I'm not sad," said Hephaestion, laughing nervously. "Why would I be sad?"


	10. Chapter 10

Throughout the flight Alexander had fallen in and out of sleep, only to find each time he awoke that the brunette seated next to him was awake, staring out the small oval window at the condensed landscape below, or doodling in a notepad provided by the plane, either way doing a fine job of ignoring him. Multiple attempts on Alexander's part to begin a conversation was shot down by Hephaestion's one－word answers, so the blonde resolved to give the man his space, while his mind drifted off to other places.

Alexander thought about Oliver, whether he was still hospitalized, because the hospital no longer charged his bills to his credit card. Perhaps Oliver was well and discharged, or perhaps his pride simply could not allow himself to have his medical bills paid for by someone who no longer saw him as a friend. Alexander didn't know, having not stepped into the man's ward again since the day he stomped out of it. He felt like he owed him a visit now.

"What're you thinking about?" asked Hephaestion so softly the voice of Alexander's mind nearly drowned it out. The brunette looked uncertain, almost as though he was afraid to pry, but was growing too tired of the silence.

"Nothing," shrugged Alexander, stretching his legs and feeling it brush up against Hephaestion's. The brunette seemed disappointed by the answer as he looked out the window again, his shoulders raised up to his ears. Eager to regain his interest, Alexander added "I was thinking about college, about how much I miss it."

Hephaestion turned to him. "You met Cassander there."

Alexander groaned inwardly. "Yeah."

The look in those blue eyes was one of curiousity.

"Do you want to hear about Cassander?" asked Alexander, mustering a smile. "Or would you like to get to know him yourself?"

Hephaestion took a moment to answer. Everybody knew by now the little crush he had on the "managing director", though what they didn't know was that the feeling was mutual, so denying it was fruitless. He chuckled. "Any charming anecdotes? If not then save your breath, because I'm dying of boredom here."

Oddly encouraged by the man's lack of interest in Cassander's past, Alexander picked up the ugly perforated notepad, drew the face of a dog on it, and passed it to the brunette, remembering how Ptolemy had once mentioned that Hephaestion used to play this little game with him during boring classes. "Continue this drawing. " Alexander flashed him a childish grin as though asking to be humored.

Hephaestion laughed, pointing at Alexander's work. "What the hell is this supposed to be, a penis?"

The blonde's jaw fell open in mock horror. "How dare you. It's a dog. _Your _dog to be exact."

"I take that as an insult,"murmured Hephaestion, dragging the tip of the pen across the coarse paper in a conscientious and yet careless manner that Alexander found had an inexplicable charm.

Within minutes Alexander saw the face of Maxie staring back at him, next to it was his own work, which, in comparison, did begin to look more and more like a male genitalia.

". . . Wow," Alexander ran his fingers over the palm-sized sketch and felt the indentations where the brunette applied most pressure with the pen. "This is amazing.

The corners of Hephaestion's lips curled up into an appreciative smile. "Thanks."

"What, do you have photographic memory or something?" Dazzled by his smile, the blonde wondered absently how Hephaestion could still take pleasure from hearing his simple compliment when he had definitely received much more elaborate ones before. Alexander chuckled. "This looks exactly like Maxie. You're like… a printer."

Hephaestion snorted and the blonde thought it was the most graceful snort he'd ever heard in his life. "Shut up, it's just a doodle."

"Just a doodle, huh?" began Alexander, hovering the tip of the pen over the pet portrait, grinning stupidly.

Hephaestion glanced fleetingly at the blonde and looked out the window. "Don't be a kid."

"Try me," the pen drew closer and closer to the surface of the paper where Maxie's intricately-drawn left ear was. "I'll give him an ear ring."

"Don't," said Hephaestion simply, as though Alexander were Maxie and he'd obey his orders without hesitation.

"It doesn't matter. You could easily draw a new one."

"It won't be the same," complained Hephaestion as the pen touched the paper. He fixed him a warning look. "Alex, don't."

Alexander blinked, setting down the pen. Had Hephaestion just called him Alex? Were they friends now? Because only his friends ever dared to use the abbreviation of his name. He decided not to question Hephaestion about it, wanting him to grow used to using that name and maybe, in the future, maybe even use the words "_honey_". . . or "_darling_". . . or "_baby_". . . Alexander chortled like a mad man at the indulgent idea, earning a raise of an eyebrow from Hephaestion, who couldn't help a breath of laughter from escaping him.

"You're weirder than I thought," observed the blue-eyed man, yawning and then suddenly sneezing. He drew his shoulders up to his ears and placed his hands between his jeans-clad thighs.

"Are you cold?" Alexander was asking the obvious, but Hephaestion shook his head and looked out the window. Alexander shrugged off a brown aviator jacket and placed it in Hephaestion's lap. The brunette felt the material of the clothing between his fingers. Guessing what he was thinking, Alexander spoke up. "It's synthetic leather."

Hephaestion looked up at him as though surprised that he'd read his mind, and then hummed in approval, slipping on the jacket. It was tailored to fit Alexander's build perfectly, so he wasn't surprised when the jacket hung around Hephaestion's lanky, more angular frame. "Thanks. . . Aren't you cold?"

Alexander took this moment to place his hand on Hephaestion's briefly in the pretense of comparing body temperature. He flashed him a smile that he hoped would work as well on him as it did on most girls, glad that Hephaestion had not rejected his offer like he did the last time, and that they were now on better terms. "Not as cold as you. You should get some sleep, there's still a couple more hours to go before we land."

Hephaestion nodded somewhat reluctantly, leaned back in his seat, arms folded over is chest, and let his eyelids droop shut. Alexander waited until he heard slow even breathing coming from the man before gently tugging the drawing out of his hand and slipping it into his own pocket, promising himself he'd frame it up when he got home.

* * *

Hephaestion blew his nose into a tissue.

"Are you okay?" asked Gerald with a hand on Hephaestion's back. His eyes were swelling slightly, his nose was pink from tissue burn and his hair was askew.

"Yeah, you look like shit," commented Frank as he studied the taller man.

Alexander chuckled softly at Hephaestion's qualmish state, and Ptolemy nudged him between the ribs. Hephaestion looked up, glaring at Alexander before pulling the band out of his hair when he noticed the attention it was receiving. Alexander resisted the urge to comb his fingers through the thick brown locks and straighten it out.

Hephaestion made a small _guh _sound as he tried in vain to breathe through his nose, pulling Alexander's jacket tighter around his body. "I think I'll stay in the hotel today."

"What?" Frank gaped at him, patting him hard on the back as though trying to smack some sense into him. "We're in Las Vegas, the playground for adults. There's no way you're staying in just because of a bit of a bug."

"I think it's a good idea for you to stay in," said Ptolemy with his hands in his backpockets.

"Yeah, I'll stay with you," said Alexander. Hephaestion looked surprised by the offer, as though fully expecting the man to go off gambling with the others while his roommate stayed in bed wheezing and sneezing to death. Ptolemy patted Alexander's back in approval, though there was still concern in his face. "You guys will be at the casino right?"

They all nodded as though there was nowhere else to be.

"Meet you guys at dinner then?" decided Alexander, and everyone nodded again. If there was one thing Hephaestion found strange about his colleagues, it would be the way they acted around Alexander. It was especially obvious when he spoke, they behaved as if Alexander were a robber giving out orders with a rifle in his hand, and they were helpless, frightened civillians.

"Good luck," whispered Ptolemy with a quick smile, squeezing Alexander's shoulder and leaving to join the others.

"You don't have to, you know? I'm perfectly able to take care of myself," sniffed Hephaestion, not completely meaning what he said. He could feel a steady fever coming up and if Alexander hadn't offered his jacket, he would've been quivering in the wind like a tuning fork, so it was hard not to admit that he couldn't go back to the hotel alone.

Alexander hesitated for the space of a heartbeat before wrapping an arm over Hephaestion's shoulders. Something fluttered in his chest when he felt the brunette lean in against him, trying to derive warmth from his body, though his arms remained folded across his chest. He laughed. "Oh, it's not that, it's just that I don't believe in gambling and taking care of you made for a great excuse."

Hephaestion looked at him and offered a sarcastic smile, an odd feeling swelling in his abdomen and tugging his lips into a small smile at the thought that just weeks ago he would've easily misunderstood the blonde's intentions and reacted negatively toward them. Could the feeling have been friendship? Hephaestion wondered if he was simply touched by the man's charm, and it was in fact too soon for him to let his guard down around him.

When they arrived at the hotel Hephaestion's throat was beginning to feel swollen from breathing in the dust-laden air and his nose was completely blocked. Alexander took off his jacket for him and set him down on the bed. Their room was comprised of two queen-sized beds placed side by side, an LCD television in the front, a tea table and two chairs next to the full-length windows and an adjoined bathroom - a whale of a difference from the presidential suite that Alexander was so accustomed to enjoying whenever he travelled.

He looked to Hephaestion, only to find the brunette staring back at him with tired, somewhat wary blue eyes. Alexander's heart slammed against his chest, as though it couldn't believe that he and Hephaestion were alone together in the same room, where they would eventually fall asleep together, and spend their first waking moments together. He felt once again like a love-sick teen.

"Are you tired?" asked Alexander with a soft smile.

Hephaestion shook his head mutely, reminding Alexander of a child.

"Lie down," ordered the blonde softly, guiding Hephaestion's head down onto the fluffy pillow. Hephaestion coughed, frowning. "Do you need anything?"

"Water," said Hephaestion in a groan-like voice.

"Here," said Alexander, putting a glass of water to his lips. He caught Hephaestion staring at him again as he drank and Alexander laughed. "What?"

"You've changed," observed Hephaestion, his voice clearer now. "At least you _seem_ like you've changed. And so much."

"How do you mean?" asked Alexander, loosening his tie and throwing it onto his own bed, painfully aware of Hephaestion suddenly stiffening and shifting away from him.

"You know how I mean," said Hephaestion, pulling the heavy bedsheets up to his chin.

"No, I don't, so tell me. Tell me what you think of me," Alexander tried to stop himself from getting angry at Hephaestion for misunderstanding him, for not believing him. He knew full well what he meant when he said he'd changed.

Hephaestion scowled at him. "Forget it." He turned to face the wall. "I'm going to sleep."

Alexander sighed, running a hand through his blonde hair. "I'm sorry," he whispered. Hephaestion didn't grace him with a response, so he returned to his own bed and pulled a book Roxane had recommended to him out from his suitcase - The Illustrated Man. So far he found the short stories rather ridiculous, but they were good enough to pass the time reading nonetheless.

When Alexander woke up, it was to the sound of soft whining. He didn't realize he'd fallen asleep; his book lay open on the carpeted floor, crushing against a page. He looked to Hephaestion's bed to find him struggling against the bedsheets. A sheen of cold sweat shone against his skin under the moonlight, and his breath was ragged and labored. Alexander had never witnessed anyone in the grips of a nightmare, but he was pretty certain that that was what Hephaestion was experiencing now, as he approached his bed and held down the sleeping man's shoulders, trying to bring him to a calm. It proved to be a bad decision when Hephaestion let out a cry, and out of the darkness a balled fist connected with Alexander's jaw. The blonde stepped back, cursing softly.

Not knowing what to do, Alexander kneeled down next to Hephaestion's face, whispering words of assurance as he carressed the side of his face and raked his fingers through the soft brown hair, massaging his scalp. This seemed to work magic as Hephaestion eventually stopped squirming and slowly his breathing became regular again. The blonde pushed his own hair back from his perspiring forehead. Hephaestion was running a high fever and he was at a loss of what to do. Alexander may have allayed a nightmare that night but he wasn't sure if he could handle a fever.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hello, my awesome readers. The story has been reposted, and now it breaks my heart that all forty-odd reviews are gone. This being my first story, every written review was beloved. . . I still hope that I can someday reach that amount again, so don't hesitate to leave them reviews because they feed my soul. :) Also, many apologies to anyone whom the reposting of the story has caused inconvenience to.**

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* * *

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"So much for Las Vegas, huh?" said Ptolemy as Alexander wiped at Hephaestion's brows with a damp cloth.

"What do you mean?" asked Alexander, not looking back at his friend, who sat on his bed, Indian style, watching him and Hephaestion.

Ptolemy frowned. "I thought you were really excited about the trip. You packed about a week in advance. I saw your suitcase sitting in your living room the day I drove you home."

Alexander shrugged. "I don't like it at my house. Might as well stay at a hotel."

"Big surprise," muttered Ptolemy, chuckling. "How is he?"

"His fever is still running high. I need him to wake up so he can take the medicine."

"Then wake him," said Ptolemy simply, hopping off Alexander's bed and moving to shake Hephaestion's shoulders before Alexander could stop him.

Hephaestion's eyes flickered open and made a soft guttural sound at the back of his throat.

"How are you feeling?" asked Alexander, taking care not to touch Hephaestion in any way. The brunette might have approved of the contact that soothed him in his unconsciousness but now that he was awake, Alexander had no more liberty with touch than a complete stranger.

"What time is it?" asked Hephaestion, looking toward the windows but the curtains were drawn close.

"It's nearly four in the morning," supplied Ptolemy, whose presence Hephaestion had not noticed until then.

"You should take the medicine," said Alexander, handing Hephaestion two pills and a glass of water, as he sat up in bed. The brunette eyed the pills warily, and Alexander's heart wrenched at the gesture of distrust. "Ptolemy, pass me the prescription bottle."

Hephaestion read the label on the bottle and handed it back to Ptolemy, popping the pills into his mouth and taking a gulp of water before turning to face the wall and screwing his eyes shut, ashamed of discrediting a man who stayed awake all night to take care of him.

Ptolemy yawned, breaking the silence as he stood up. "I should go back to my room. Just call me if you need anything."

Alexander nodded and moved to give his friend a grateful hug before he left the room.

Hephaestion faked a slow, even breathing, hoping that Alexander would think he was asleep, and leave him alone to go about his own business. What he didn't expect was to feel weight on the other side of his bed, followed by warm calloused fingers ghosting over his cheek, running through his hair. He tried his best to stay silent, not wanting to admit that the touch was comforting. _What the hell was going on? _Hephaestion hoped he wasn't getting fever-induced illusions about Alexander.

Hephaestion was relieved when Alexander withdrew, walking away. He heard him enter the bathroom and there was the sound of the shower turning on, water splashing against the bathroom tiles. He flipped onto his back and stared at the ceiling, wanting a shower badly but feeling too weak to get up from the bed.

When Alexander came out of the shower, Hephaestion had really fallen asleep, the silent room was filled with his slow breathing, punctuated occasionally by a soft snore. Alexander laughed to himself. "You don't snore, huh?"

Alexander placed the back of his hand against Hephaestion's forehead, judging his recovery. It was slow. The sick man's clothes were damp with perspiration, so Alexander unbuttoned Hephaestion's shirt with nervous fingers, careful not to wake him. Just as he was about to get a clean shirt, he caught sight of the scars along Hephaestion's ribs. Involuntarily, his fingers reached out to gently touch the circles of raised flesh. Hephaestion jerked in his sleep and Alexander's fingers drew back, as though burned. He wiped the perspiration from Hephaestion's torso before pulling a clean cotton shirt over Hephaestion's head. Sitting down on the carpet, he stared at Hephaestion's slumbering face, committing every little detail of his features to memory, before his slow breathing finally lulled Alexander to sleep.

* * *

The next day Alexander awoke, spread-eagled on the floor, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth. He flushed to find cerulean blue eyes staring at his face, stifling laughter. If was the first time Hephaestion had ever seen Alexander in a state that was anything less than calm, composed and perfectly primped, so he felt slightly cheated of his time in the presence of a haphazard Alexander when the blonde finally awoke, sitting up, wiping the drool away and flattening his hair. It was also oddly refreshing to see Alexander dressed so casually, in a plain wifebeater and a pair of expensive-looking boxer shorts. He looked like one of those air-headed mannequins standing in Abercrombie stores, all tanned skin and taut muscle. Hephaestion felt a pang of jealousy.

"Feeling better yet?" asked Alexander with a hand to Hephaestion's forehead as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. He frowned, disappointed that Hephaestion's temperature hadn't decreased. "Lie back down. You need more rest."

Hephaestion laughed, causing himself a coughing fit. Alexander patted his back. "I just woke up and you want me to go back to sleep? No way."

"Don't be a brat, Phai," grumbled Alexander, grinning at the look of disbelief on Hephaestion's face.

"What _else_ did she tell you?" asked Hephaestion, exasperated at his grandmother.

"Phai," Alexander repeated the name as though it was an object he could turn around and inspect in his hands. "She called you Phai before she let me into your house that day. What an adorable nickname. I shall call you that all the time now."

"And I shall never respond to it, and do so dutifully," countered Hephaestion, picking at the shirt he didn't have any memory of putting on himself. He blushed momentarily. "Thanks for, you know, taking care of me."

"Don't thank me yet," said Alexander, ruffling Hephaestion's hair before he could help himself. "You're still running a fever. Listen, pass me your cellphone."

"Why?" asked Hephaestion, reaching for it anyway.

"I'm saving my number on speed dial," said Alexander, pressing away on the phone, before handing it back to Hephaestion with a self-satisfied grin. "Just press one if you need me."

Hephaestion nodded, hating and yet loving that Alexander had taken it upon himself to become his personal guardian. He noticed absently that Alexander's stubble was as blonde as the hair on his head. He didn't let his feverish mind wander down that line of thought, knowing that its curiosity regarding the consistency of the color of Alexander's hair would only go southward. "I need a shower."

"Is that okay?" a crease of concern formed between Alexander's brows.

"Yes, it is," said Hephaestion, not thinking the day that Alexander nagged at him would ever come, as he got out of bed. He felt his brain crashing about inside his skull as he did, wincing from the pain but heading doggedly toward the bathroom.

The doorbell rang and Alexander moved to open the door, letting Ptolemy, Frank and Gerald into the room. They were all fully-dressed and ready for breakfast. Ptolemy sat down on Alexander's bed.

"How's Hephaestion?" asked Gerald, not sure if it was appropriate for him to sit on the bed as well, or to walk across Alexander and take a seat by the window, so he settled on standing awkwardly at the doorway next to Frank.

"He's still running a fever."

"Good thing he didn't listen to me," said Frank sheepishly. "Where is he?"

"In the shower," replied Alexander, feeling quite exposed and underdressed, so he sat on the bed next to Ptolemy. "Just take a seat anywhere."

Frank and Gerald nodded, moving to sit on the chairs by the window. It was about seven in the morning and Alexander had only gotten two hours of shut-eye.

"Alexander?" came the uncertain voice of Hephaestion. Alexander shot up from the bed and hurried to the bathroom, surprised that Hephaestion shut the door in his face before he could reach for the door knob. "I'm fine, don't try to come in here. Could you get me a towel and some clothes? I forgot them. . . not used to sharing a room -"

Alexander nodded, blushing at the mental image that formed automatically of Hephaestion naked at the other side of the bathroom door, so close to where he was standing now. He returned with what Hephaestion needed and knocked on the door. It opened slightly and Alexander spun around immediately after the clothes were passed to Hephaestion, having caught a glimpse of Hephaestion's naked rear in the bathroom mirror that directly faced the door.

"What's wrong?" asked Ptolemy, concerned by Alexander's touchy behaviour.

"Nothing," said Alexander curtly, preparing the clothes he was to wear that day and stepping into the bathroom when Hephaestion was done with it. The bathroom was filled with steam that smelled distinctly of Hephaestion, it was engulfing him, tantalising him, arousing him. But the faint murmur of conversation outside brought his mind back to reality. He couldn't and he _wouldn't _jack off to Hephaestion's image, not while the object of his desires was going to be sleeping two mere feet away from him that night. Swiftly shaving and washing his face, Alexander threw on a shirt and a pair of jeans before stepping out into the room to join the rest.

"Are you up to having breakfast downstairs?" Frank asked Hephaestion.

"I'm not dressed for it," said Hephaestion, referring to the tee shirt and sweatpants Alexander had given him.

"You're not well enough yet," said Alexander with his arms folded as he leaned against the wall.

"You could order in breakfast," suggested Ptolemy.

Alexander nodded, feeling eager to leave the presence of the long-haired man. "Let's go."

Everyone filed out of the room and Hephaestion tried not to feel disappointment when Alexander closed the door behind him, not bothering with a goodbye.

* * *

Hephaestion popped the pills into his mouth and swallowed them down with a sip of water as the doorbell rang. He frowned. It was too soon for Alexander to return.

Hephaestion was pleasantly surprised to see Cassander when he opened the door.

"Hi," said the brunette, smiling as he stepped aside to let the man in.

"I heard you were down with a fever," said Cassander, placing the back of his hand against Hephaestion's cheek. "You're still burning up. Go lie on the bed."

Hephaestion nodded and let himself be urged back into bed. "I haven't been seeing you."

"That's 'cos you've been in bed for two days," laughed Cassander, lacing his fingers with Hephaestion's. "I was expecting to see you at dinner last night, then I heard you were sick. I'm sorry I didn't come to see you sooner."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not," said Cassander, bringing Hephaestion's palm up to his lips and holding it against his face. "You look so tired."

Hephaestion blushed, pulling his hand away. "I share the room with Alexander, he could return at any minute."

Cassander's face paled at the mention of the name. He didn't think there would be such a coincidence. "You're rooming with Alexander?"

"What's wrong?" asked Hephaestion, reaching for Cassander's hand again.

"Nothing," smiled Cassander, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Hephaestion's ear, then cupping the back of his neck, bringing him close so that their lips met. "I've missed you."

Hephaestion smiled, sighing. "Me too."

"When will he be back?" asked Cassander, crawling into bed next to Hephaestion and snaking his arms around him, nuzzling his neck.

"I don't know," said Hephaestion, laughing as he pushed the man away. "Cassander, don't. I'm tired, and if Alexander sees us. . ."

"How long has he been gone?" asked Cassander, kissing Hephaestion before he could answer. He ran his tongue along Hephaestion's lower lip, seeking acceptance as his hand wandered to the waistband of Hephaestion's pants.

Hephaestion pulled away, frowning. "What's with you today?"

"I'm sorry, I just - I've really missed you, Hephaestion," Cassander embraced the warm body beside him.

Hephaestion tried to pull away again. "I'm sick, you might catch the fever."

"It doesn't matter," whispered Cassander against the shell of Hephaestion's ear. "Nothing matters now because I'm in love with you."

Hephaestion pushed firmly against his chest, blue eyes boring into grey. "Don't just say it if you don't mean it. I'm not some love-starved girl. I thought you said you'd give us time."

"Hephaestion," Cassander plead with him. "Don't talk like that. . ."

"I don't know who you are, Cassander," said Hephaestion sadly, not realising how right he was in saying it. He stood up from the bed and felt his head swim, not sure if it was a side-effect of the medicine or simply his fever.

"But you do, Hephaestion," Cassander reached for him and felt fury pump through his veins, brief and violent as an electric shock, when the man stepped away from him, rejecting him once more. He rose to his full height and backed the feverish man against the wall, breathing harshly against his neck. "Don't fight this."

Hephaestion was sure that he felt the effects of the medicine kicking in now, at the worst of times, and his knees threatened to buckle beneath him. "If you love me, Cassander. If you really do, then back away from me now and leave this room. Please."

Cassander faltered. "Hephaestion. . . "

"I'm drowsy," said Hephaestion, falling limp against Cassander, his eyelids heavy. "And Alexander will come back."

"Alexander, Alexander, _Alexander_. . ." growled Cassander against Hephaestion's ear, his breath moving the soft brown hair that covered it. "Do you think more of him than of me? Like everyone else, Hephaestion, do you?"


	12. Chapter 12

_"Alexander, Alexander, _Alexander_. . ." growled Cassander against Hephaestion's ear, his breath moving the soft brown hair that covered it. "Do you think more of him than of me? Like everyone else, Hephaestion, do you?"_

"No," murmured Hephaestion. The word was wrung out of him as though it took great effort.

Finally Cassander felt the broiling body of Hephaestion slacken completely and Cassander lifted his face up. Hair was sticking to his clammy neck and his cheeks were flushed red. Suddenly the reality of what had just transpired rushed to him.

Things did not go as he had intended. He was supposed to come to Hephaestion, a purely platonic visit to his sick colleague, and bring up the idea of distancing from each other, just as Alexander had asked of him. Cassander had had more than his fair share of experience in the department of breakups, whether it be platonic or non-platonic relationships, so he hadn't expected himself to abandon his initial plans so readily at the mere sight of the beautiful smile that touched Hephaestion's lips, at the knowledge that the man was smiling _because of him. _Things just started to spiral out of control at that point, when he felt the overwhelming need to touch Hephaestion, if only to leave his mark on him before he became Alexander's.

Cassander scooped Hephaestion's spiritless legs into his arms and carried him, gently lowering him onto the bed. His breath was shaky against Hephaestion's cheeks as he kissed his eyelids, willing the fever away. Passing a tremulous hand over Hephaestion's forehead, he cursed softly. The man was heating up at an alarming rate, and he had an idea whose fault it was.

"Cassander," came a voice from the doorway. He knew it was Alexander but the man had never used that tone of voice on him, and it felt completely foreign. The blonde placed a plastic bag on the tea table. "What're you doing here?"

Cassander didn't acknowledge him, concentrating instead on rubbing circles on the outside of Hephaestion's palm, until a firm hand gripped his shoulder. It was then that Cassander made a belated decision - he wouldn't cower and slink away, offer Alexander whatever he wanted, without putting up a fight first. Hephaestion was different, probably - _definitely_ - one in a million, and Cassander knew he'd never come across a man like him again. To say that such bouts of capriciousness and sentimentality was uncharacteristic of the man would have been a gross understatement, but in that moment risking the loss of his career didn't sound as bad an idea as giving Hephaestion up to Alexander.

"Get your neanderthal hand off me," said Cassander with carefully disguised consternation, rising so that their eyes were level.

"What's your problem?" Alexander moved to check on the sleeping man, only to be taken aside by the arm.

"I will continue to pursue Hephaestion," stated Cassander.

"What are you saying?" the words were spoken slow and threatening, the way Alexander would speak to an incompetent employee. "We've discussed this, come to a conclusion. And you're going to make good your word this time."

"There could be a future for us," said Cassander, glancing at Hephaestion, as if it substantiated his certainty of the man's character. "If we come clean with him now, he might still want me."

Alexander ignored the stinging in his chest at the thought that Cassander could be right. He laughed humorlessly. "So faithful, Cassander? You don't sound like yourself at all."

It was true, and Cassander knew it, but it felt right to say out loud what his heart thought - he'd been denying it for far too long. "Well maybe I've never _been_ myself. Alex if you want him, you're going to have to try harder, because I won't give him up to you."

"Don't talk about him like a possession, Cassander. Whoever he chooses would be his own decision alone," said Alexander, before a groan carried from Hephaestion's bed. "It would help if you waited till he's well again before doing anything drastic."

The blonde was by Hephaestion's side when he looked to Cassander, who was still standing at the other end of the room, watching the sleeping man. There was something in his eyes, Alexander had seen it there before, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He just knew it wasn't love - it was too soon for love. "You should go. Before Hephaestion wakes up."

Cassander seemed to teeter on the edge of speech, but then he remembered what he'd done to Hephaestion. Imagining that the man wouldn't want to see him when he woke, Cassander clenched his jaw and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Hephaestion gasped, blue eyes flying open. He sat up and looked about the room. It was late evening. "Alex?"

"Relax," said Alexander in a soothing voice, coming to his side.

Hephaestion furrowed his brows, reaching a hand up to touch Alexander's face. The blonde winced slightly from the twinge of pain that burgeoned from his touch. He'd completely forgotten about the punch he took to the jaw the previous night as it hadn't been hurting. He guessed that a bruise had formed now.

"What happened?" asked Hephaestion, sitting up. "Did Cassander. . . ?"

Alexander frowned. "Did Cassander what?"

"I don't know, did he do that to you?" asked Hephaestion uncertainly.

"No, he didn't," replied Alexander, his frown deepening. "What makes you think he did?"

Hephaestion didn't reply, instead he glanced over Alexander's shoulder. "I smell mushroom soup."

"Was he aggressive with you, Hephaestion?" Alexander looked furious. "Did he lay his hands on you? Is that why you think he might've hit me?"

"No," denied Hephaestion, backing away from the blonde, who was unconsciously advancing on him. "He wasn't acting like himself, that's all."

"What did he do?" asked Alexander, knowing Hephaestion to be making light of the issue.

"Nothing," said Hephaestion, frustrated by Alexander's overbearing concern. "I'm fine, aren't I?"

Alexander hated that Hephaestion was defending Cassander, it made him feel like an outsider who didn't understand the mechanics of their relationship. "Why didn't you call me? I could've come right up -"

"Stop, Alexander. You're making yourself sound like a hypocrite."

"A _hypocrite_?"

Hephaestion exhaled deeply, smoothing the bedsheets over his thighs. "I'm sorry. Shouldn't be bringing that up."

"No - Hephaestion," Alexander placed a hand on Hephaestion's knee, making him look up. "I want to know what you think of me, honestly."

A long silence dragged out between them, and then Hephaestion finally spoke. "I really want to believe in you."

"But?" prompted Alexander.

"But I've spent the past ten years thinking you were the reason those things happened to me. It's not easy to just up and change my mind about you now."

Alexander swallowed audibly, nodding. "Is there anything I can do to make it easier?"

"No," Hephaestion smiled, but it was not with malice as he placed his hand over Alexander's and gripped it briefly. "You're trying hard enough as it is."

"I am?"

"Yeah." Hephaestion looked thoughtful. "But why is it so important that you change my opinion of you? How would you benefit from my liking you in any way?"

"Benefit?" said Alexander softly. "What have benefits got anything to do with this? I just want your friendship, Hephaestion, it's as simple as that."

"But why make things so difficult for yourself?" Hephaestion laughed. "You could have the friendship of anyone else, save yourself the trouble of getting me to like you."

"You're different from other people."

"How so?"

Alexander looked away, scratching the back of his neck. "It's hard to explain."

"You're so confusing, Alex," mused Hephaestion. "And I'm hungry. . . haven't eaten anything all day. Can I have the soup now? It's for me, right?"

"You haven't even had breakfast?" Alexander frowned - he'd been doing an atypically lot of frowning lately - reaching for the bowl of soup in the plastic bag that was meant to be Hephaestion's lunch. "Didn't you order in?"

Hephaestion shook his head, grabbing for the spoon before Alexander could offer to feed him.

For several long moments Alexander sat next to him, watching his sculpted jaw clench and unclench around the occasional slice of mushroom, until Hephaestion peered up at him from under his thick lashes, and Alexander stood, realising that he was being weird.

When the soup was finished Hephaestion looked to Alexander, who was now sitting in bed, reading from a book. "So what happened to your face?"

The blonde glanced at him, amusement dancing in his brown eyes. "Care to take a guess?"

Blue eyes narrowed in contemplation. "You cheated at the casino and security roughed you up."

Alexander sat up, putting his book down with a frown. "Do I look that bad?"

Hephaestion laughed. "Not really. Did you get in a fight with someone?"

"No, not exactly."

"Just tell me what happened already."

Alexander laughed and crawled to the edge of his own bed, bringing his face as close to Hephaestion's as he could as though trying to build up suspense. "You hit me in your sleep last night."

". . . Why? How?"

"You were having some sort of a nightmare," said Alexander, settling back in bed, slightly disappointed by the lack of reaction. He had half-expected the man to apologise frantically, much like anyone else would've done at the knowledge that they had dared to touch Alexander, much less bruise him. But then again, wasn't Hephaestion's unpredictability part of his charm? "Do you have them very often?"

Hephaestion nodded, but didn't elaborate on it. "Was I saying anything?"

"No, but you seemed like you were going through hell."

Hephaestion nodded again, lying down and pulling the sheets over his shoulders, facing away from Alexander.

"What's wrong?" Alexander got up from his bed and sat next to Hephaestion. He thought he imagined the brunette flinching away from him. "Is the fever getting worse? Turn around and let me take your temperature."

Hephaestion turned to lie on his back, and his hair spilled across the pillow. Blue eyes stared up at Alexander as he took his temperature. It was 37.9 degree Celsius - still a fever but not a high one. Alexander hated himself for feeling disappointment in the knowledge that Hephaestion would soon be up and about with the others, and going back to his routine of pointedly ignoring his existence.


	13. Chapter 13

That night another nightmare invaded Hephaestion's dreams. It was about an hour before midnight when Alexander shut his book and went to check on him before going to sleep himself. At first, nothing seemed amiss with the slumbering brunette, but with a closer look Alexander noticed the stiffness in his posture. His head was arched back, sweating neck exposed, as though some invisible force held it there in a death grip, his knees were bent at odd angles and his fingernails dug into his clammy palms, forming deep indigo half-moons that made Alexander's heart turn in his chest.

"Hephaestion," he said softly, cupping Hephaestion's balled fists in his hands, urging him to uncurl his fingers before they broke the skin of his palm. "It's just a dream, Hephaestion, wake up."

Alexander received no response but the brunette began to mumble incoherent words, fitfully interrupted by broken whimpers that made the blonde want to cause physical harm to whatever aroused those nightmares. Desperate to alleviate Hephaestion's pain, he sank one knee into the mattress, hesitating for a fraction of a second, before laying down beside him, enveloping him and stroking his cold arms with large warm hands. "It - everything's okay, Phai. I'm right here."

Hephaestion calmed meagrely, but continued to murmur under his breath, and given their close proximity this time, Alexander could make out the words "Oliver" and "sorry". They kindled a spark in Alexander, and his blood seared through his veins, humming under his skin. He felt a flash of regret for not having wrung Oliver's neck tight enough to take his sordid, miserable excuse for a life. He exhaled, a tremulous puff against brown hair. "I'm here, Phai. Oliver is far away, he cannot hurt you. Never again."

He knew his words were heard when a final whimper escaped Hephaestion's lips, and he relaxed in Alexander's arms. Barely able to resist, the blonde planted a kiss on the top of his head, inhaling shampoo, sweat and a scent that was exclusively Hephaestion. A brief shame rolled under his ribs from the indulgently depraved act. Alexander slipped away from Hephaestion with the intention of returning to his own bed, only to be held back desperately by the man. "Don't go."

Alexander's heart melted like an ice cube embraced by the sun, as he settled back down onto the bed, immediately finding a comfortable position against Hephaestion's back, protecting him from the demons that lurked in the dingy corners of the room. He wished morning would never come.

* * *

Rays of pale sunlight filtered through the thick curtains, stirring Hephaestion. The first thing his foggy mind registered was the sense of warm protective weight on his arms, followed by deep even breathing against the back of his neck. He almost yielded to the temptation of falling back asleep when he realised with a trip of his heart what - _who_ - was lying next to him. He was embarrassingly aware of a soft, firm and agitatingly insistent prodding against the curve of his butt, as it sent blood rushing up his neck and down his groin.

A deep groan, and everything was gone as Alexander rolled away, stretching. Hephaestion pretended to be asleep, moving only to curl into a fetal position, effectively hiding his arousal. He felt Alexander stiffen on the other side of the bed, as though realising where he was and what state he was in. The blonde cursed softly, and tried to slink off the bed with the stealth of a clumsy elephant.

Hephaestion found himself terribly offended by the move, like Alexander had used him without his consent and was now shirking away to pretend he'd done nothing of the sort. When Hephaestion spoke his voice was unrecognisable. "Where do you think you're going?"

Alexander span around like the words were a pistol shot. "Um - "

Hephaestion turned to face him, no longer worried about his erection. They were both men afterall, morning woods were perfectly understandable. "Why were you in my bed?"

"I was - I don't - last night," Alexander was exceedingly frustrated with himself, finding it impossible to put his explanation to words. He took a steadying breath and ran his hand through his tousled hair. "You were having another nightmare last night."

Hephaestion froze. He did remember having a nightmare, but it had ended abruptly, right before he reached the worst part. Beyond that, last night felt like the best sleep he'd ever gotten. But how was that in any way relevant to Alexander sharing his bed? "And?"

"And I tried to - I tried to make it stop."

"By spooning me in my sleep?" Hephaestion laughed, incredulous. Alexander felt like he was treading on eggshells because even from the laughter he couldn't decipher if Hephaestion was really angry.

"Well, it did the job, didn't it?" asked Alexander hopefully. When Hephaestion didn't respond he added "If it bothers you I won't do that again. I promise."

Hephaestion shook his head, hugging his knees to his chest. "I'm not angry or anything. Last night was the best sleep I've ever gotten."

"Really?" asked Alexander, immensely relieved. "Does that mean we can do that again tonight? I mean - that is if you have a nightmare again."

Hephaestion laughed softly, bitterly. "I have them every night."

"Every night?" The thought of Hephaestion going through such torment on such a regular basis gave him an unfamiliar sense of guilt as he knew that he'd indirectly brought it upon him.

Hephaestion nodded. "It scares Maxie and sometimes he licks my face and wakes me. I thought it was just something about dogs. They _sense_ things, y'know? I didn't think my nightmares were so bad that I'd wake you."

"You didn't," assured Alexander. "I just happened to be checking on you."

"I'm sorry," said Hephaestion, looking down at his toes, his hair cascading over his face. Alexander wanted to push it back. "I've pretty much just ruined our holiday. You really don't have to feel responsible for me, it wasn't your fault I fell sick."

"I was just looking out for you," said Alexander with a laugh. "We're friends, aren't we? It's the least I could've done - I'm shit at playing nanny anyway."

Hephaestion smiled involuntarily at the idea, suddenly feeling stupid for clinging onto the past. He and Alexander were friends. Hephaestion hardly had any friends, he was a private person.

"How're you feeling?" asked Alexander.

"I feel much better now, the flu's gone, just a bit of a sore throat."

Alexander moved to brush Hephaestion's hair from his face and feel his forehead. He flashed the brunette an encouraging smile. "Fever's gone too."

Hephaestion blushed from the contact of their skin, reminding him instantly of the compromising position to which he'd awoken that morning. "Let's go out today. I'm tired of being cooped up in the room and seeing you waste your day away reading that book you hate so much."

"I hate the book?"

"Yes, you do," confirmed Hephaestion, and Alexander realised he was right. All the book ever did was lull him to sleep. Perhaps he and Roxane just didn't share the same literary taste. "So where should we go today?"

"The others are still in bed," shrugged Alexander, assuming Hephaestion wanted to go out with them. "They had a late night last night."

"Late night?" Hephaestion hopped off the bed with a vigour that he couldn't have managed just days ago. Alexander felt slightly proud of himself that he had managed to nurse the man back to health single-handedly. "The type of late night with women involved?"

Alexander sniggered, watching Hephaestion bend over to rummage through his carelessly-packed suitcase. He swatted inappropriate images from his still rather groggy mind. "I don't know the details."

"Speaking of which," said Hephaestion, unself-consciously pulling his tee shirt over his head, the muscles on his back flexing enticingly from the movement. Alexander bit down hard on his lower lip and forced himself to look away. "Just wondering, out of curiosity, do you have a girlfriend?"

Alexander gaped, in mock surprise, bringing a dainty hand over his mouth. "Are you making a pass at me?"

Hephaestion laughed so heartily, like every bell within him was ringing. "You flatter yourself."

"Why do you say that?" challenged Alexander, leaning back on his elbows, watching Hephaestion step out of his sweatpants. He loved being able to watch without being watched back.

"I - I already have someone in mind," said Hephaestion, as he pulled on a grey sweater and a pair of khaki shorts.

"You have someone in mind," repeated Alexander, trying to register the fact. He plastered a smile on his face. "And who's that?"

Alexander stood from his bed and approached Hephaestion, standing close enough that he could see the flutter of his lashes, the way he refused to meet his eyes. Was he flustering him?

"I asked you first," said Hephaestion, childish and aware of it. They both knew who Hephaestion "had in mind".

"My heart is taken," said Alexander with dignity - Hephaestion was not the only one who was in love in the room.

Hephaestion laughed at the blonde's playfully thespian tones. "By who?"

Blue eyes shivered, darting to focus on either of Alexander's brown ones as he stepped even closer toward him. He suddenly noticed that so many things have changed about Hephaestion, but the small, frightfully brave boy he used to know was still detectable in those eyes. The familiarity that gushed through him made him want to scream. He'd spent ten years apart from him and now that he was within his reach someone had to take him away again.

The blonde put his hand up on the wall next to Hephaestion's head, leaned in, and heard the delectable sound of the brunette's breath hitching in his throat, blue eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. Satisfied with the reaction, Alexander picked up the bottle of cologne sitting on the mantel shelf and drew back with a smirk. "You don't know him."

Hephaestion swallowed audibly, feeling hot under the collar. Distracted, until he realised what the blonde had said. "Him?"

"Is there a problem?"

"No, I just. . . wasn't expecting that," said Hephaestion immediately. "What's his name?"

"Why're you so curious?" asked Alexander, unable to tame his smile. He still revelled in the small victory from just a moment ago. He pulled off his wifebeater without a glance to Hephaestion, not wanting to find out if the eyes he felt on his body were from his own imagination.

"Just concerned," shrugged Hephaestion, leaning against the wall, watching Alexander as Alexander had watched him. He had to admit the man was eye candy, but that was as far as things went, even with the recent information that they batted on the same team. He tried not to let his mind drift to Cassander. What he did the day before made him feel taken advantage of, and the memory of every touch was still fresh on is mind. He would eventually forgive the man, but it would take some time.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: I'm so sorry for the delay in updates! I've been busy with schoolwork (having my finals this year), and there've been so many gigs the past weeks I just couldn't miss them. I really hope I haven't lost any readers, because I have every intention of completing this story. Also, sorry if this chapter wasn't worth the wait; just wanted y'all to know I'm still alive. :)**

* * *

Hephaestion didn't know his way around, but thought he'd concealed that fact well enough, because Alexander had led the way for the most part. But of course the blonde was aware of how lost Hephaestion would've been if they were to lose each other, so he casually glanced back every few minutes to make sure the man was always near.

Something seemed to catch Hephaestion's attention when he grabbed Alexander by the elbow and led them aside.

Alexander bent to squat next to Hephaestion as he watched with a stuporous sort of half-smile as a small female pug rolled around her compartment on her soft naked tummy. "Thinking of getting another one?"

Hephaestion seemed to consider it. "Nah, I was just thinking how much she looks like Maxie." He placed his palm against the glass and the puppy pounced at it, huffing. Hephaestion looked immensely amused. "Look, she's the size of my hand."

Alexander placed his hand next to Hephaestion's, it was about half a phalange larger. He attempted a girlish squeal that turned out cracked and nasal. "Look, she could fit in my hand!"

"Shut up," said Hephaestion, putting a palm flat on the top of Alexander's blonde head like he was nothing short of a table, serving to propel him to his feet.

Alexander laughed, loving the growing ease between them too much. "Why don't you buy him a leash?" He ran his fingers along the row of leashes to stop at one that had metal studs all over it. He picked it out and swung it in Hephaestion's face. "This one. My gift to Maxie."

"That would strangle him, stupid," said Hephaestion, ducking his head around as though looking for something. "Do you see any harnesses?"

Alexander shrugged, and clicked his fingers at a sales assistant, beckoning him over. "Excuse me."

The sales assistant was wearing a red apron with "PAWS N' CLAWS" written across it in bright merry colors. He wiped his palms against the apron and approached them with an ill-disguised scowl that was not at all in keeping with his surroundings. "May I help you, sir?"

"Sorry, does the shop sell harnesses?" asked Hephaestion, with a smile apologetic for Alexander's insolence.

"Of course. This way," said the young man. He grinned like someone, conceivably Hephaestion, had turned on a wattage dial in his back, and he led them further into the shop. Behind the sales assistant Alexander shot Hephaestion a look that said plainly just how affronted he was by the stark contrast between the sales assistant's behaviour toward him and Hephaestion. Hephaestion ignored him, chuckling under his breath.

The heady smell of wet fur, faeces and old wood grew stronger the further inward they went, and Alexander fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose lest he offended Hephaestion, who seemed totally unaffected.

Finally, the sales assistant stopped and gave his head a swift flip that sent his thick Mork hair falling perfectly into place, as he directed a smile solely to Hephaestion. "They're all here. So what's the breed of your dog?"

"He's a pug," said Hephaestion fondly.

"I love pugs," supplied the sales assistant, appraising Hephaestion, having apparently forgotten about Alexander's presence. "A green leash would suit you - your dog, I mean. Y'know, you're very tan," he angled his head inquiringly. "How old are you?"

"How is that even relevant?" The words exploded from Alexander's lips. "How old are _you_?"

"I'm sixteen," said the sales assistant as though Hephaestion had asked the question.

"Well, we're ten years your senior and way the hell out of your league, kid, so shove it."

Hephaestion laughed awkwardly, putting a hand to Alexander's chest, and the blonde jerked involuntarily at the touch, their skin separated only by the cotton of his tee shirt, thin as cobwebs. Hephaestion looked to the sales assistant, who seemed unfazed by Alexander's outburst. "Thanks for your help, we'll just have a look on our own."

The sales assistant nodded and moved to leave with reluctance. "I'll be right here if you need me."

Alexander proceeded to glare a gargantuan hole into the back of the teenager's head, rubbing absently at his chest. "What the hell kind of service was that?"

"Dude, relax." Hephaestion noticed a harness that resembled a yellow safety jacket. He grinned, holding it up. "This one's perfect."

* * *

For the next half an hour Alexander's mind remained pervaded by the residual vexation over the incident with the sales assistant, and when they stopped he was surprised to find themselves at the ladies' section. All around them were racks of dresses, and only several feet away were salacious lingeries and hosieries on display. It was a tough feat for two grown men to stay inconspicuous in a place like that, and they were already receiving looks of disdain, befuddlement and coquetry in relatively equal measures from the sales people and the customers, all of whom were female.

Alexander nudged Hephaestion, his skin all of a sudden feeling three sizes too small. "Better be a good reason we're here." Distractedly, he picked out a red, ruffled dress and held it against Hephaestion's body. "There. This one looks good on you, now let's go."

Hephaestion spared the man a glance, and then did a double-take. He pushed the dress away and fixed him a look, all behave-yourself-or-you-won't-be-getting-any-tonight, but that was slightly out of context. "What the hell, Alex."

Alexander noticed Hephaestion was sort of whispering, as though trying not to attract any attention. The brunette didn't seem to realise that they were just about as unnoticeable as a couple of streaking frat boys right now.

Alexander rubbed a hand over his face, looking around. "What're we doing here?"

"Getting a dress for my grandma," said Hephaestion as he held up a seafoam green dress that had frills around the broad collar. "How 'bout this?"

"Not bad," Alexander hid a smirk behind his fist. "Clown-like with a bearish appeal."

The corner of Hephaestion's lips curled up in the most miniscule of sneers. "You're a perfect bullshitter."

There was the heavy clucking of heels against linoleum before a salesperson appeared beside them. She had on this too-tight vest with a chain looping out of its pocket, and thick, cakey makeup that made the color of her face look several shades lighter than that of her neck. She smiled like a hanger was wedged between her cheeks. "How may I help you?"

"We're looking for a dress for a lady in her sixties," said Alexander before Hephaestion could so much as breathe a word of dismissal. "Find us the most suitable piece and we'll see if it's to our liking."

The salesperson nodded and left them.

Hephaestion leaned toward Alexander, and the blonde swallowed with a click, like chalk snapping. "You know she's gonna find us the most expensive dress they have around here, right? And why do you have to sound so damn bossy all the time?"

Alexander shrugged and sat down on a dusty-colored ottoman. "It's for your grandma. What's a little money spent to make her happy?"

"And how would a dress make her happy?" laughed Hephaestion with his hands against his own lower back, looking down at Alexander.

Alexander frowned like it was a strange question to ask. "Women like to spend money."

"Well my grandma doesn't."

The salesperson returned with three dresses hooked around her scrawny arms. They were of the same design in black, navy blue and maroon - a simple, classy satin dress that tapered at the knees and came with a thin matching belt. "How would these suit her?"

"They're perfect," said Alexander, smiling. "We'll have them."

"All three?" the salesperson looked pleasantly surprised.

"Um, no," interrupted Hephaestion, taking the dresses from her politely. "We'll have a look before deciding. But thanks for your help."

The salesperson didn't miss her cue, so she nodded and made herself scarce.

Hephaestion fixed Alexander an exasperated look, scraping his knuckle briefly against his sparse beard.

"I don't know what you're so worried about," said Alexander with his arms folded across his chest, his back straight like he was trying to keep their eyes level. "I'm paying."

Hephaestion laughed. "No, you're not. It's _my_ gift to _my_ grandma."

"Let's just say we're sharing this gift. You do the choosing and I do the paying. Sounds fair?"

"I didn't choose anything."

Alexander stood up so Hephaestion was about an inch or two shorter, and angled his head in a way that was sort of intimidating, though without any sort of malice.

Hephaestion pushed the dresses toward Alexander and the blonde quickly uncrossed his arms and caught them reflexively. "Whatever, you can buy her those dresses if you want."

Alexander followed after Hephaestion as he walked away. "What do you mean?"

"What do you mean what do I mean?" Hephaestion glanced back. "Just buy her those dresses. And you'll give them to her yourself, I'm not playing messenger."

A broad smile spread across Alexander's face. "Am I right to assume you're inviting me over to your place?"

Hephaestion slowed down in his steps. "Do you want to come over?"

"Hell, yes," said Alexander, only slightly regretting the excitement in his voice.

"Because her birthday's coming up," said Hephaestion, looking kind of contemplative. "We don't have many relatives and she's always saying how she doesn't wanna spend her last birthday with just me and Maxie, and I keep telling her -," Hephaestion cleared his throat and studied his shoes. "'Woman, stop prophesising the future, you'll live to a hundred' but she'd always look at me with that sad smile, like she was feeling sorry for me or something. And it just really sucks." Hephaestion looked up at Alexander and squinted. "Y'know what I mean?"

"Yeah," said Alexander, slightly surprised by the piece of information Hephaestion had just shared with him about his private life, as he squeezed Hephaestion's shoulder. "I'll be there. When is it?"

"Next week," said Hephaestion as they continued to walk.

"Is Cassander gonna be there?"

Hephaestion paused and Alexander tried to decipher the look on his face, find out if it was the wrong thing to ask, but the brunette wouldn't look at him. "Why um. Why would you think he'd be there?"

"You guys are seeing each other, right?"

"What makes you think that?"

"Don't - it's not that it's obvious or anything, don't worry about that."

"Would you believe me if I told you there's nothing between us?"

"But there's _something_ going on there, isn't it?"

Hephaestion flinched and Alexander realised he was raising his voice. He managed a guttural "sorry".

"But you've known Cassander for years now, right?" Hephaestion looked at him now. "What kind of a person would you say he was?"

"Like. How? Like if he's a good lover?" Alexander sounded pretty serious.

Hephaestion snorted. "Like if he's a good guy."

"In general?" Hephaestion nodded. "Um. He's a nice guy, not the do-charity-all-day kind of a nice guy, but - his friends, he treats them like family." Alexander decided to stop there, not sure if telling him about Cassander's history with women would help things.

"And with girls?" probed Hephaestion warily. "Guys?"

"He's um, he's never been with guys - as far as I know," said Alexander, knowing that if ever there was a way to disparage Cassander, he was now doing exactly that, and he hated the feeling knawing in his gut for it. "But he's had more girlfriends than anyone would've cared to count."

Hephaestion's lips curved into a silent 'oh', but he turned his eyes up at Alexander, half-hearted mischief in the look. "Way to run your buddy down."

"Yeah I know," Alexander chuckled, mussing the hair on the back of his head. "Total dick move. But I'm just trying to be honest though, give you a heads-up before you jump into anything with him."

Hephaestion nodded, and for the rest of the day they pretty much avoided the topic of Cassander.


	15. Chapter 15

It was their last night at Vegas and everyone, which included Ptolemy, Gerald, Frank and of course Alexander and Hephaestion, was gathered around a table in a cozy, dimly-lit sports bar, each nursing a bottle of beer and taking turns at conversation like tugging a blanket too small to cover them all.

"Must've been the card," said Frank with a deep raspy chuckle, finishing a story that Hephaestion vaguely understood was about an ex-colleague who had the figure of a Victoria's Secret model, but the amount of body hair of an australopithecus. It was pretty obvious that everyone at the table was at least a little bit buzzed by now.

Alexander's head lolled back as he clicked his fingers at a waitor passing behind him. He was the sort of good-looking guy you'd get a look at and have to steal at least a second glance like it was an invariable fact of the physical universe, a scientific law, and if you broke it you'd spontaneously combust or something violent like that. He had these intricate full sleeves down both his arms, grayscaled like he'd had them for decades; a look like he was only at this dead-end job so he could pay for the paints, the panels, the installations, his booze and maybe his coke if he was into that. He stopped and bent down to better hear what Alexander wanted. The blonde's hands clasped the waitor's arm, pulling him closer. Hephaestion found himself eyeing those beer-shiny lips, pressed so close to the waiter's ear he might as well have made out with it. "Dude, could you get me some ice, I'm burning up."

With raised brows, the waiter nodded, and Alexander released him, letting his eyes drift shut and his jaw fall slack. The waiter hovered above him for a fraction of a heartbeat, just staring at the blonde in a way that went unnoticed by everyone except for Hephaestion, before he snapped his eyes away, and smiled easily at the others. "You guys need anything?"

"'Nother round?" suggested Ptolemy. He seemed to be the most sober among them, only not sober enough to think he could keep himself that way so he could drive them all back. Gerald and Frank nodded, but Hephaestion said no for Alexander and himself, considering the state of the other guy.

"Okay, Three Alpines please," said Gerald, putting up four fingers.

"Three Alpines," confirmed the waiter, whose name Hephaestion learned, upon squinting at his name tag, was Ian.

Gerald frowned, and deep lines bracketed his mouth. "Yeah, buddy, that's what I said."

Ian nodded with a soft chuckle and left the table.

"Gotta pee," murmured Ptolemy, getting up abruptly and pendulating toward the washroom. Consequently Alexander, who had been leaning heavily against the other man, fell right out of his chair, its legs squeaking painfully loud against the linoleum floor.

"Fuck," Alexander mumbled, his hands scrambling for the rickety wooden chair in a pathetic attempt at getting back on it. "The fuck happened here?"

Everyone was laughing now, people from other tables too, and Hephaestion was distracted for a moment when he noticed a familiar face among the strangers. When he dragged his eyes back to Alexander, Ian the waiter had already come to his aid.

"Easy there," said Ian, his hands hooked under Alexander's arms as he dragged him onto a three-seater, because he probably didn't trust that the blonde could stay put in his chair without falling back off it. Hephaestion dipped the cloth into the bucket of ice Ian had brought and wiped at Alexander's face.

With a grumble Alexander held Hephaestion's hand in a firm, almost painful grip. When he opened his eyes and saw that it was only Hephaestion, he chuckled and let his hand fall. "Shit, that's cold."

When Ptolemy returned from the washroom and saw everyone crowding around Alexander, he snorted a laugh. "Lightweight."

"Yeah and you still let me drink," Alexander was saying over Hephaestion's shoulder, pulling himself up into a sitting position and rubbing at his temples.

"We should prolly take our beers and go," said Frank, stifling a yawn with his sleeve.

"None of you seem to be in a condition to drive," said Ian, and Hephaestion had to stop himself from saying "No shit, Sherlock," but he couldn't stop himself from huffing sarcastically. Ian glanced at him and smiled, all placating and sympathetic like he understood, even though he didn't because neither did Hephaestion. "I could call you guys a cab."

"What about our car?" asked Ptolemy, unaware that he was already asking for a favor.

"Or. . . I could drive you back," said Ian. He glanced back at the counter. "I should probably ask my boss first."

"That's - that would be awesome," said Alexander from where he sat. "That's very helpful of you."

Ian grinned, so young and sincere that somehow it made them feel bad, like exploiting good-intentioned sophomores, and disappeared behind a door next to the counter.

"What a sweet young man," said Frank approvingly as he tucked his beer into his hoodie pocket.

* * *

"Hear me out before you say anything," Cassander was breathing down his neck again and his fingers were wrapped around Hephaestion's arms so tight he could feel the white marks forming under the skin. Hephaestion dug his own fingers under Cassander's to try and pry them off. "Don't - please, c'mon. Just hear me out."

"Alright just let go of me," said Hephaestion and he exhaled deeply when the hands were immediately retracted, replaced by the cold.

"Hephaestion I'm really, really sorry," Cassander was saying and his voice was strained like he hadn't had a sip of water in weeks. He swallowed. "I never meant to do that, what I did, I just -"

"What," whispered Hephaestion when Cassander cut himself off. His hands, trembling in the dark, found Hephaestion's, weaved their fingers together. Hephaestion's fingers snagged and, his eyes screwing shut, closed around Cassander's knuckles.

"I don't know, maybe I was feeling a little insecure," said Cassander and he brought their intertwined hands to his chest, right above a heavy pulse and Hephaestion's eyes opened. "Alexander, he has a reputation of stealing the things I want most and I just didn't want that to happen again."

Hephaestion didn't say anything, just stared down at their hands, Cassander's fingers cold and clammy between his own. He didn't understand this feeling, if it was love or if it wasn't, he'd never felt it before. But if love was a good feeling, it sure as hell wasn't this. Sniffing dryly, he said, "I told you to stop but you didn't listen."

"I'm so sorry," whispered Cassander, and he kissed Hephaestion's fingertips, a beseeching look on his face.

Hephaestion cleared his throat and pulled his hands away, braced them against his lower back as he studied a broad crack in the concrete, the little green sprout poking out of it, and he wondered how it survived in the dingy alley. "I wish I could say it's okay, but just, y'know, I just can't. Something doesn't feel right."

Cassander fit his thumbs in the sockets of his eyes, breathing out harshly, losing patience, but with whom he wasn't sure. "Talk to me about it. I can fix it."

"Can't fix it if you don't know what it is, can you?" Hephaestion smiled, and there was something weak and sad in the slant of his blue eyes. "Me and the guys are heading back to the hotel, you wanna come with?"

Cassander shook his head, swallowing. He smiled a tight-lipped smile. "No. I uh, I'm gonna stay here for a while."

Hephaestion nodded. Not waiting for a response, he turned to leave.

* * *

"So where'd you guys come from?" asked Ian, his fingers fluttering against the tight leather of the steering wheel.

"New York," mumbled Gerald, who had taken the shotgun seat, with his chin deep in his chest. Ian nodded and kept silent for a few moments.

There was a slobbering sound then and Gerald bolted upright, saying too loudly, "Keep - keep talking. M'falling asleep."

Ian glanced at him, chuckling. "Then sleep. You really don't have to worry about me robbing you and pushing the car off a hill or anything like that."

Gerald laughed an unconvincing laugh. "Wasn't worried about that."

In the back of their SUV, Hephaestion was the only one still awake, and considering that it was pitch-black outside, he could find nothing to occupy himself with apart from watching everyone else sleep. Ptolemy had his head in Frank's lap with his elbow hooked over his eyes, Frank had his head on Hephaestion's shoulder with his cheekbone bumping painfully against the brunette's shoulder at every jerk of the car, and all alone in the very backseat was Alexander, with his face jammed up against the window and his warm breath fogging up the same little patch of glass over and over again. Hephaestion turned to look out the window, and the only thing there was his own reflection, his face was tired and some of his hair had fallen loose from its band, thick with the day's grime.

He kept veering his mind away from the subject of Cassander.

"Ian, right?" asked Gerald.

"Yes sir," said Ian, and suddenly out of nowhere Hephaestion felt thankful for the guy.

"I'm Gerald, and that one back there with the long hair's Hephaestion, and that one with the goggles, that's Ptolemy, the tall blonde one right at the back is Alexander and the one who looks a little bit Asian, that one is Frank. Thanks again for driving us back and all."

"Just helping out," shrugged Ian.

"We're definitely gonna pay you for it though," said Hephaestion, and Ian snapped his head to face him, like he was surprised he was awake.

"You don't have to."

"We do," said Gerald with a nod that said _it's gonna happen, believe me._

They let silence fall over them for several minutes, nothing but the sound of the car humming and barrelling over the occasional rock on the uneven asphalt.

"M'okay," said Alexander in his sleep, and he was suddenly very awake, inhaling deeply as he took in his surroundings. Hephaestion turned in his seat to look at the blonde, amused. Alexander eyed him, something like shocked relief in his expression. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," said Hephaestion with a soft smile, wanting to rumple the blonde's hair where it remained glued to his scalp from being pressed against the window.

"We reaching yet?"

"Soon," supplied Ian, glancing back at Alexander with a grin. With one hand on the wheel, he gestured toward his hair. "Hair's kinda funky, Alex."

"Road," reminded Gerald softly with his shoulders up to his ears and his arms crossed over his stomach.

"Right," said Ian and his eyes flew back to the road.

"He knows my name?" asked Alexander, bemused. Ian chuckled from the frontseat. "What's yours?"

"Ian," said Ian and Hephaestion felt a strange little surge of annoyance that the man had stolen the conversation he and Alexander were just having, or about to have.

"Ian what?"

Ian laughed but his eyes never left the road. "Alexander what?"

Hephaestion was starting to get real irritated now, the way he used to get when his dorm mate Rick and his girlfriend couldn't decide who the honor of hanging up went to until, well, Hephaestion lent them a hand. He was about to answer the question for the blonde before he realised he didn't know the answer himself. It was an extremely disturbing discovery, like finding out your twin sister has actually always been your twin brother.

"Karanid," answered Alexander.

"I didn't know that," interjected Gerald, his voice laced with wonder.

"Ian what?" asked Alexander again, with a childish sort of vehemence.

"Ian Keller," said Ian.

"Okay," said Alexander weakly, unsure of what he'd wanted with that information in the first place. "Nice name."

Ian laughed, sort of disbelieving. "Gee, thanks, buddy."

Alexander laughed. "Sorry, okay? I'm still kinda drunk."

"Of course," said Ian as he pulled into a driveway. "And here we are."

Hephaestion jabbed an elbow sharply into Frank's side and he awoke immediately, gasping, and the movement stirred Ptolemy, who was always a light sleeper. "We're here?"

Ptolemy reached over sleepily and put a hand on Ian's shoulder. "Thanks, man. How much do we owe you?"

"Nothing, just call me up if you guys are back in town, okay?" Ian was getting out of the car.

Frank and Ptolemy shared a deadpanned look: _way too good to be true, man._

"I insist," said Ptolemy, reaching into his wallet and pulling out a fifty. "Is this enough?"

Ian chuckled and pushed the money back toward Ptolemy. "No, man, I'm serious. I know your name, you know mine," he shrugged. "We're friends now. Friends do favors."

Ptolemy's frown only deepened. "You sure?"

"You should stay over with us," suggested Alexander as he looked around in the dark nothingness of the place, blissfully unaware of the incendiary look Hephaestion was giving him. "It's too late to get a cab and none of us can drive you back, so just stay with us."

"We owe you as much," agreed Frank. "But only for tonight though, 'cos our flight's scheduled for tomorrow."

Ian grinned, scratching the top of his head. "Well if it isn't too much of an imposition. . ."

"'Course not," said Gerald, slinging an arm over Ian's shoulders and leading them in.

* * *

Hephaestion had been slightly relieved when Gerald had steered Ian into the room he shared with Frank and Ptolemy, since he'd thought the obvious option was for Ian to share the room with him and Alexander considering there was more space. But apparently, while Hephaestion was in the shower, plans were changed.

"Alex," Hephaestion nudged the sleeping blonde with his toe as he towelled his hair. "Alex, wake up."

"What?" Alexander's hand wrapped tight around Hephaestion's ankle so he would stop prodding him, and the brunette squeaked when he almost lost his balance.

"Get off my bed," Hephaestion said, hopping on his grounded foot. "You haven't even showered yet."

"But Ian's on my bed," said Alexander, let go of Hephaestion and sat up groggily.

Hephaestion glanced at the young man curled up in Alexander's bed, his grey flannels strewn on the carpet so he only wore his jeans and a black wifebeater that showed off his full sleeves entirely, every inch of compact flesh covered by minute details of quotes, dates and images that most definitely must each have had their own story to tell. "I am aware of that."

"Lemme share yours?" asked Alexander with a charming sort of smile.

Hephaestion threw his damp towel at Alexander and crawled into bed next to him. "Go take a shower first."

Peeling the towel off himself, Alexander watched Hephaestion as he settled under the covers with his wet hair sprawled over the pillow, his eyes clamped shut and his throat bobbing nervously. Clearing his throat, Alexander tore his eyes away and walked toward the bathroom.

As soon as the door was shut behind Alexander, a soft voice spoke, deep and unused. "Hephaestion?"

Hephaestion shifted and considered feigning sleep, but decided against it. "Yeah?"

"Are. . . you and Alex. . . y'know, together?"

"Why?"

"Nothing, I just. . . maybe thought I'd clear things up before making a move."

Hephaestion frowned and propped himself up on his elbows, his hair dripping onto the bedsheets. "Making a move?"

Ian chuckled. "C'mon, you know what I mean, right?"

"Um, oh, okay. No, we're not - not together, no," Hephaestion was stuttering. "But um. You heard what Frank said, right? We'll be leaving tomorrow."

"Yeah," said Ian with a look on his face that said "What's your point?"

Hephaestion frowned. "Alex isn't exactly the one night stand type."

Ian chuckled. "Okay."

Hephaestion nodded. "Yeah," he shifted into a sitting position. "Listen, we're really grateful you took the effort and time to drive us back and all, but that doesn't warrant. . . y'know. . ."

Ian's brows creased, and he cocked his head to the side, smiling. "No, I don't know. What're you getting at?"

Hephaestion ran his tongue over his lower lip in contemplation, like trying to put his thoughts into a sentence, but then shook his head, going back down under the covers. "Nevermind. It's late, we should sleep. Good night."

"G'night," said Ian and Hephaestion could hear the smile of amusement in his voice.

* * *

It was six in the morning when Ian awoke. There was the sound of shuffling sheets, panting breath and soft moans. What finally confirmed his suspicion was the heady scent of sweat in the air. "Dude."

"Ian?" said Alexander, the silhouette of his head popping up from the mass of sheets and limbs. "Ian, you awake?"

"The hell are you guys doing, man?"

"No, it's not - we're not doing anything," struggled Alexander. "Hephaestion's just having a nightmare."

Ian frowned in the dark. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, I can handle this, just go back to sleep," said Alexander, shushing Hephaestion, who was squirming beneath him. "Sorry for waking you."

"S'there anything I can do?"

"No, just go back to sleep, but thanks anyway."

Ian padded across the space between their beds and sat next to Alexander. His arm, warm from sleep, was pressed up against the blonde's colder one and the Alexander shivered viscerally, glancing at the younger man.

"Does he have them a lot? These nightmares?" asked Ian, not daring to look back at Alexander.

"Yeah, apparently," said Alexander, somehow afraid of what Ian might think if he did what he did before - curl around Hephaestion and fall asleep, so his hands were feeling immensely useless at his sides right now. And then the brunette began to calm, his breath coming in slow puffs.

"Well that sucks," said Ian, looking at Alexander, who looked back at him. Ian swallowed dryly, placed his hand over Alexander's and leaned in, capturing his lower lip between his teeth and then, when Alexander gasped, pressed his tongue in and dragged it along the roof of his mouth. Involuntarily, Alexander kissed back, the faithless part of his mind operating him because the kiss was so certain, like it was the millionth time they'd done it, and Hephaestion felt like an unreachable dream, even though he was really only inches away. There was a shifting from a third person on the bed and Alexander's rationality returned abruptly, everything hitting him like a freight train, hard, savage and painful.

"What the _fuck_," was Alexander's immediate reaction and he tore away from Ian, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Dude, just chill out," said Ian but the tremor in his voice betrayed him, and he was already reaching for his shirt on the floor.

"Shut up and get the hell out, man, Jesus." Alexander wanted to shout but was afraid Hephaestion might fully awake. He scrubbed his hand over his face and stood, waiting for Ian to ready himself and then opening the door to let him out.

"I'm sorry," whispered Ian harshly when they were both standing out in the hallway, Ian fully-dressed and Alexander wearing only his boxers and wifebeater.

"What the hell was that?" asked Alexander angrily, his toes curling against the rough carpet because it was so damn cold out here.

Ian frowned. "If I remember correctly, I wasn't the only one in it," he laughed. "You were totally kissing me back."

"It was instinct," said Alexander lamely, hugging himself.

Ian nodded. "Right."

"Anyway."

"It's Hephaestion, isn't it?"

"Huh - what?"

"The goddamn love of your life?" clarified Ian, smirking.

Alexander cleared his throat and figured what the hell. "Maybe, yeah."

"Well good luck," said Ian and quickly drew Alexander in for one last peck on the cheek before hurrying off down the hallway, taking a sharp turn and disappearing behind a wall.


	16. Chapter 16

There were still cars outside, burning rubber against the asperous gravel, and their headlights were casting interpretable shapes on the ceiling. Alexander had a sudden urge to grab the keys and head out for a drive, feel the wind move on the back of his neck. But the impulse went away the moment his jeans were pulled on, that small sense of purpose leaving him suddenly, and Alexander dropped himself on the bed, his nerves jittery and running on overdrive.

He didn't feel like sleeping because if he did, the next he knew it would be morning and they'd be taking the first flight back to New York, going back to their old lives. He popped his knuckles against his thighs and sniffed, the adrenaline from the kiss still whirring in his veins and he couldn't stop moving, pacing the narrow avenue of the room, sitting on his bed, one foot on the carpet jogging a thousand miles an hour. His eyes kept darting back to the other man's sleeping form.

"Hephaestion?" he said softly, just testing. There was no response, just a soft gasp, the slightest hitch of a breath like something in his dream had shocked him.

Alexander groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. This Ian was as good as a complete stranger, and he could _tell_, and it got Alexander wondering just how obvious he was, or how oblivious Hephaestion was. He turned and glanced at the brunette. It was black as tar outside and the room was the same but he'd been sitting in it long enough that his night vision was fully-stimulated now.

Hephaestion was so lovely in his sleep. He was lovely most of the time - when he yawned with his eyes screwed shut like a kid, when he laughed, every cell in his perfect body limned by some sort of divine phosphorescence, and when he looked at Alexander, really looked at him, like he knew what he was all about.

Or maybe it was all just in his head. He was pretty sure something about his obsession with the man was screwing with his perception.

* * *

Alexander woke up with his head on the other end of the bed and the sheets thrown off, the transition from night to morning wiped out from his memory like neanderthals from the earth. The place was silent, empty and oddly depressing. It made him feel like Hephaestion had never shared his room at all, like the whole time he'd only been swimming in this swamp tank of wishful thinkings.

He trudged into the bathroom, woozy with sleep and so ready to find Hephaestion there with his thick, bedraggled hair and lip curled in a general dissatisfaction with Alexander that it left him slightly winded when he found that the bathroom was empty as well.

* * *

Half an hour into the flight and Hephaestion was still awake, pretending not to be awake. Alexander could tell, of course. The brunette had sneezed a couple of times, and it was a weird fact to know, but it was physically impossible to sneeze while sleeping.

"Need a jacket?"

Hephaestion's shoulders squared and he made a show of waking up, fluttering eyelids and yawning and stretching. "No, I'm good."

"Sleep okay last night?"

"Sure, yeah."

Alexander smiled, nodded and returned his attention to his copy of BusinessWeek. He kept finding the back of Hephaestion's head where he wanted to see his light-trapping eyes, and it was taxing him.

"You -" Hephaestion's voice was a squeak, cut off and cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again: "When did Ian leave last night?"

Alexander quirked a brow at Hephaestion and, not trusting his own eyes right now, looked down and away at the man's thighs, too-long legs jammed against the back of the seat before him. "He uh, got a call from a friend so he had to split."

"Huh," said Hephaestion and Alexander looked up. The brunette nodded and there was a hollow below his lip where he was worrying it, and Alexander could tell that he was, for whatever reason, unconvinced.

"What?"

Hephaestion shook his head and looked deliberately out the window. The sky was agate blue where the clouds, allineated by sunlight, didn't connect. It was a different kind of blue from Hephaestion's eyes but really no blue was comparable. "Nothing."

Alexander turned him around so he could see his face, try to read what crazy ideas were chasing themselves around in his head. He tried to laugh but there was a give in it that he hoped Hephaestion didn't notice. "What? Say it."

"I saw you last night, what the both of you were doing."

So he did.

Alexander's throat felt collapsed. "Weren't you uh - I thought you were asleep."

"I knew he was gonna go and do something like that," continued Hephaestion like Alexander had never interrupted in the first place. "But seriously? With someone you just met?"

A nuance of disappointment in his voice that Alexander probably only recognised by textbook knowledge and having it directed at him was so unfamiliar that he blinked, not sure how to respond. "Why?"

What was he asking? Why did he think he'd make a move on him? Why was he so concerned with who he kissed? Why did he pretend to be asleep while it happened? He couldn't even say for sure himself.

"What's it to you?" Alexander asked again, clarified himself. He tried not to sound like a child.

And it was in this brief moment, the space of a heartbeat, when their eyes met and Alexander could fathom what it was that was there. He swore that was it. Hephaestion was jealous and he could deny it all he would because it couldn't have been mistaken for anything else, and it settled something in Alexander, fortified his resolve before he even had time to get dizzy with happiness.

Hephaestion looked down, rubbing his knuckles along his jaw, his voice coming deep and hoarse like he hadn't just been speaking. "Nevermind. Forget I brought it up."

Alexander smiled, and then, unable to help himself, started laughing.

Hephaestion glared at him, feeling mocked. "What's your -"

"Are you jealous, Phai?"

"No," said Hephaestion too fast and too loud, like he'd entertained the idea himself and was simply reiterating his answer again. Unwittingly he geared on the defensive. "I just thought you were better than that. I thought you at least had some self-preservation left in you and you wouldn't do something to betray him like that."

"Wait - what? _W__ho_?"

Hephaestion groaned. "Don't play stupid with me, Alex."

"Tell me."

"That guy you _'love' _oh-so-deeply? Ring a bell?"

That jarred him. Had he, really? It was the first time he'd thought of it this way. He'd betrayed Hephaestion. "I'm - shit, Hephaestion, I'm so sorry."

Bowled over and completely thrown off balance, Hephaestion swallowed audibly and spoke with his jaw asunder. "What?"

"I'm sorry," repeated Alexander, softer but somehow much clearer. His hands were scrambling for Hephaestion but he didn't know how. Outside a swarm of birds converged, pulled apart and interwove again like crosscurrents. They were close to land.

"It's okay," said Hephaestion, not knowing exactly how he meant by it. This had nothing to do with him. "I'm not the one you should be apologizing to. I just hope this isn't something you do all the time or anything."

"No, never. First time in years, I _swear_."

Cold hand fumbled in his hair and Alexander looked up to see Hephaestion, odd look in his eyes and his mouth set in a firm line. Alexander took his hand and the brunette stared, wide-eyed. "I should tell you something."

Hephaestion said, "What?" and Alexander was this close to telling him, the words mere inches beneath the surface but that would majorly screw things up so Alexander clamped down on his voice, steadied himself and then spoke. "I'm feeling hungry as hell so I'll go check with the stewards, see if they're done with our breakfast."

He stood up and let Hephaestion's hand fall, left him sitting there stranded and hanging by a cliff in some undiscovered land in the deep recesses of the earth and hell if it was the last thing he wanted to do.


	17. Chapter 17

Cleitus called in the morning. Alexander was dreaming of Oliver, speaking to him in French and he understood the man in a fragmented way, recognizing the words individually but not as a whole. It was definitely a weird dream. There was the _briiing briiing _of his brass candlestick and judging by the sound of things beyond his bedroom door, Alexander's housekeeper Nguyen had dropped something brittle before answering the call.

Rolling over to face the clock, Alexander read - _FRI__ 6:43._ Alexander had been looking forward to waking up naturally that day, but no such luck apparently.

"Sir." Three knocks on the door. "Sir." Another three knocks. "Sir."

"_Goddammit_, just come in," groaned Alexander with a mouthful of pillow.

"Call from Cleitus, sir," said Nguyen, but Alexander grimaced at her hand - yellow, soapy dish glove clutched around the wooden door knob like nobody's business. He wondered exactly what she could have been washing when he hadn't had a single meal in the house for the last couple of days and logically there weren't supposed to be any dishes to wash.

"Could you -" Alexander gestured toward Nguyen's hand with a pained expression. She withdrew her hand immediately like the door knob was a burning coal and wiped at it with her washcloth.

"Sorry, sir. Call from Cleitus," she repeated.

"Yes, thank you," said Alexander with cached exasperation as he threw his legs off the side of the bed and jogged to the living room.

"Good morning, Alex," said Cleitus through the phone and Alexander could hear the cavalier grin in his voice, the perfect grown-up smile he remembered so clearly, catching the light like burnished whitewood.

"It's six in the morning," was all Alexander said.

"Precisely," said Cleitus. "So would you like to meet me for breakfast or should we have it over at your apartment?"

"What - no, it's fine, I'll be there." Alexander stretched, his back popping in several spots against the wall. "Oh and by the way, on an _entirely unimportant side note_, when did you get back?"

"Plane landed an hour ago. Problem?"

"Would've appreciated a call," said Alexander, exhaling into his palm and taking a sniff.

"Oh for godssake, Alex, go brush your teeth before the stench carries all the way here," said Cleitus. "Bye-bye, now."

"Bye."

* * *

The usual: tiny obscure cafe in Fifth Avenue, Midtown Manhattan. Cleitus was already there, sipping from a steaming cup and Alexander remembered now exactly what engendered that nagging sense of foreboding - Cleitus was back, as in, not to be melodramatic or anything but _Cleitus._ Was. _Back_. Was it August already? The wedding was in September.

"Alex," Cleitus stood to greet him, arms wrapping around him with one hand cupped over his nape in a familial hug. "How goes everything?"

"Good, good," said Alexander and they both sat down, Alexander waving a waitor toward their table.

"Your order, sir?"

"A coffee granita with whipped cream and brioche, thanks."

"Better watch your diet there," commented Cleitus, idly whirling the coffee around in his cup. "Wouldn't want your wedding tux to split at the seams."

Alexander let out a soft breath that couldn't quite count as laughter, and Cleitus grinned in keen appreciation of his own humor. "Sounds like something you should be saying to Roxane."

"Ah, will she be free today? I thought I'd pay her a visit."

"She knocks off at six. Does she know you're back?"

Cleitus stared up at him from above his horn-rimmed glasses, a _do-you-really-have-to-ask?_ look well-meliorated over all the times Alexander had ever asked him anything.

"Guess not," and when the waitor returned with his breakfast Alexander hummed gratefully. "Thanks, buddy."

"So," Cleitus leaned in, his sharp, shiny elbows set on the wood of the table. "Plans for the bachelor party?"

The blonde reclined in his seat, rubbing two fingers into his right temple. "It's a little too soon to be planning for that."

"If it was I'd still be in Oslo."

"Anyway I'd rather it not be planned, rather it be _spontaneous_, y'know?"

"Spontaneous?" Cleitus looked completely serious. "It's the last day of your singlehood and you're gonna spend it at some cheap strip club and come back with herpes or gonorrhea or some sad, pathetic disease. I can totally see it."

Alexander said nothing but held up his hand which Cleitus misinterpreted as a sign of relentment.

"Alex, you're twenty-seven. I got married at twenty-three and look at me, my life is great," Cleitus placed a hand on his nephew's arm, squeezed it like courage could diffuse across that way. "As long as you know Roxane is the right one."

"That's the thing," blurted Alexander before the words even crossed his mind.

Cleitus frowned. "What's wrong? Did something happen while I was away?"

Alexander shook his head, taking a bite from his brioche.

"Then what? You've always been so lovey-dovey, and you've been together for years. You're practically married already, so what's the problem?"

"Calm down," said Alexander, his eyes pleading with Cleitus not to blow a fuse in public, and his uncle seemed to remember where he was as he settled back in his seat, having half-way gotten up from it at some point in the conversation. "It's just. . . some kind of a premarital breakdown or something. I'll get over it."

"You'd better," said Cleitus, a warning undertone in his vioce. "We spent a good few millions on the wedding."

"You think I don't know that?"

"What matters is if you even _care_, Alex. You may not think it, but money doesn't grow on trees."

There was a long arduous moment of silence, during which Alexander fought an internal battle with himself not to say "_You can't measure happiness with money_", because it was so hackneyed and it would've only made him seem a bigger loser to his uncle.

And then Cleitus shook his head and patted Alexander on the cheek. "My darling nephew, I wish I knew what was in your head half the time."

* * *

On Saturday night Alexander turned up an hour earlier than stipulated with a nosegay in one hand and a giftbox in the other. Just hours ago a part of him was afraid that the brunette still held it against him about last time, but a call from the man himself inviting him over seemed enough to quell his insecurities.

"You getting married?" asked Hephaestion, surveying the blonde.

In that split second Alexander blanched, the words striking cold, misplaced fear in him."What? I'm - who told you?"

"Told me what? Your bouquet, it's like you caught it from a bride or something," Hephaestion let Alexander in and the blonde could breathe again. Maxie barked and scratched at the floor. "Gramma, Alexander's here."

"Heavens," Alexander heard the old lady say. "It's only six. . ." and then she appeared in the living room, still wearing her apron, her hair bunned up in a way that made her appear like a mirage of her grandson, and the authoritarian look she always had on as though by default, at once acquired a youthful light as she held Alexander's cheeks between her hands. "Let me look at you - heavens, what a handsome young man. I remember when you were still a teenager."

"You do?" asked Hephaestion from the other end of the sofa. He looked to Alexander for some form of validation, but the blonde was grinning his handsome little grin and busy with charming the daylights out of his grandmother.

"Happy birthday," said Alexander as he extended the bouquet to the lady along with her boxed dresses.

"Oh, heavens," she cried and Hephaestion almost felt apologetic for the number of times she'd already used the word in the span in five short minutes. "You didn't have to. Oh -" She tsked sweetly and headed into her room. "I should change into something more presentable."

Hephaestion scooted over to Alexander. Maxie jumped onto the couch and rolled onto his back in Alexander's lap, licking at the blonde's inner elbow. The brunette beat his fingers against the upholstery of the couch and cleared his throat. "When's my gramma ever met you when we were teenagers?"

"Never," lied Alexander with a shrug, knowing that Hephaestion's grandmother had been referring to the times that she'd spotted him following her grandson home from her second-story balcony. He'd wave briefly at her and make as though he'd sent Hephaestion home before running away in the opposite direction. He'd only done it thrice, and he was thirteen, young, foolish and a little too crazy in love, so it was understandable, he thought. "So, uh, what'd you get her?"

"I got her a necklace - your dresses can't even _begin_ to compare."

"Oh really," Alexander reached over to the bowl of nuts on the coffee table and popped one into his mouth, smirking as he rubbed imaginary crumbs between his fingers. "Your grandmother seems to like me. So does your dog."

Hephaestion sucked in his upper lip, eyes darting towards the ceiling in exaggerated contemplation. "Your point?"

"None intended."

* * *

"Alexander-"

"Please, ma'am just call me Alex."

The old lady smiled. "Okay then, Alex, m'dear, would you like some of the pot roast? My Phai here doesn't eat meat, so the two of us will have to finish them off." She finished with a conspiratorial wink worthy of a comedy routine from the sixties' and Alexander chuckled.

"Yes ma'am, thank you," he said, extending his half-empty plate so she could fill it up. "Your food is delicious, ma'am."

"Oh Alex don't bother with formalities, you can call me Martha," she said, slapping some corn chowder absently onto Hephaestion's broccolis. "And don't you flatter me, I'm sure your mother is a much better cook."

"My mother hasn't cooked for me in years."

"Why's that?" asked Martha, her voice taking on a lower register.

Alexander looked up and smiled. "Oh, well, my parents died in an aviation accident when I was a kid, is all."

"I'm sorry," whispered Martha, her hand cupping over Alexander's and it looked so natural like her hands were built for this, sympathy wilting her face like blighted roses.

"You never told me," said Hephaestion with a frown on like he was reproachful but there was this muted, sad tilt in his eyes and it made the blonde uncomfortable.

Alexander's fingers left grease stains on his glass as he set it down on the table. He shrugged, swallowing his wine, and then he chuckled. "I didn't think it was important."

"How old were you?" asked Martha and Alexander looked down at her hand, the translucent folds of her skin and the blue veins underneath. Something about her made him want to talk about these things he'd never wanted to talk about, but he at least had the head to know this wasn't exactly the right time to be bawling all over the poor lady's dress.

"I was ten I think, maybe eleven?"

"So young," she commented, then she smiled sadly. "Who cooks for you now, then?"

"My housekeeper can fix a couple meals but most of the time I eat outside."

"Tell you what," said Martha, patting his hand with a decisive grin. "Whenever you like, you can come and have dinner with us. My Phai can cook for you if I get caught up with work at school."

Hephaestion glanced at Alexander, watched as his appreciative smile curved up at the ends into something michievous.

"I'd love that very much, Martha."

* * *

"It's getting late," said Hephaestion, getting up from the couch, glancing at Maxie esconced comfortably in Alexander's folded legs. "You should go."

Alexander looked away from the dead pixels on the top right corner of the tv screen and up at the brunette. "You're right. But I'm pretty drunk." He grinned a grin that Hephaestion thought made "pretty drunk" an understatement. "Think you could send me back?"

"No."

"Hephaestion, drive the poor man home, he could get into an accident," said Martha.

"Yeah, Phai," said Alexander, still grinning. "You're my designated driver."

* * *

The brunette ended up driving about fifty miles down to Midtown, pulling into a condo with an especially high-end security system, the type of place that probably protected its residents from terrorism attacks, assassinations or anything equally life-threatening. He found it all rather irrelevant. Alexander's life wasn't all that precious, he thought with inexplicable bitterness.

"It's raining," said Alexander, throwing his keys into a small wooden chest on the counter. "Stay for a drink or something."

"It's drizzling," replied Hephaestion, tarrying at the doorway. "I could probably get a cab."

Alexander turned around, took the brunette's arm and eased him into his apartment, locking the door behind him. "What's bothering you?"

"What? Nothing. What makes you think I'm bothered?"

"You're just so dismissive of me, y'know? If you're gonna snub me all night, why invite me over, right?"

Hephaestion exhaled, his breath feathery and too warm on his tongue. "You're still drunk, man -"

"I'm not. Trust me, I'm not."

"I wasn't snubbing you."

"Well that seemed like what you were doing whenever your grandma wasn't in the room. Kinda gives me the idea that you didn't even really want me there tonight. You just wanted _someone_ there."

The brunette scoffed, noticing suddenly how the taller man had him cornered, covered on all sides. "Dude, you're overreacting."

"Why didn't you ask Cassander instead?" Alexander asked, tight-lipped smile plastered on but it didn't hold up, wavering at the corners. "M'sure he would've made a great impression."

"_Why_ would I want him there?"

"Because you're seeing each other, duh," the blonde made a stupid face and then grimaced. "Fuck, you're just so stupid sometimes, you know?"

"Fuck you, Alex," said Hephaestion, sneer twisting onto his face like barbed wire as he shoved the blonde away, and unexpectedly Alexander lost all footing and fell backwards, collapsing onto the hardwood floor like an old grand tower. "Shit."

Hephaestion tried clumsily to help him up, but his hands were swatted away and the movement sparked some kind of terrible alchemic reaction that felt like a cincture tightening around his heart.

"Don't touch me, man," muttered Alexander, sitting up momentarily, wincing and then falling back onto the floor. "I know you hate my guts."

"You're drunk, I need to get you to bed."

"I'm not drunk. I. Am. Sober." Alexander cocked his head to the side, squinting up at Hephaestion. "Do you not get what I'm saying? Or are you just too damn stupid to understand?"

"Yeah," said Hephaestion, bringing his face close to the blonde's, snarling subtly, his fringe falling in front of his face and the ends ghosting over Alexander's cheeks. "I get you crystal clear."

From the ground, the sound of the other man's feet stalking away seemed amplified, but it was getting softer and softer and suddenly, in some eviscerating delirium, Alexander got up on his feet, ignoring the blinding silver stars in his eyes. "Wait, Phai. Wait - shit, I'm so sorry, man. Don't go."

And miraculously, the brunette stopped. A brief moment of stillness, then Alexander heard the quick footsteps advancing on him before he saw Hephaestion with his fist drawn back, but before the blonde's dulled instincts could help him, there was a sickening crack and he was on the ground again.

Hephaestion was panting. "Why do you have to be such a jerk all the time, Alex?"

"I'm sorry," said Alexander into the dark room, the olive-stained oaken panels where ceiling and wall met. He found it hard to breathe but he recognised in a distant sort of way that it was because there was blood in his sinuses. Wiping his prone nose on his rolled-up shirtsleeves and breathing through his mouth, Alexander slowly got up, walking towards Hephaestion.

"Don't make me hit you ag-"

"You're just so stupid," said Alexander and he took Hephaestion's face between his hands, marvelling for a moment at the feeling of his beard against his palms before pressing his bloody lips to Hephaestion's. The brunette made a guttural sound that Alexander felt more than heard, the dangerous cross between a gasp and a choke. His hands scrambled on the blonde's bloodied sleeves and it was unclear if he was trying to pull him closer or push him away. Alexander couldn't bring himself to care because something, plausibly the lack of oxygen, was blotting everything out anyway.

* * *

When Alexander next awoke, he was in his bed. His head felt saturated and heavy against the pillows, a tell-tale sign that sitting up was going to be hell for him. There was a familiar scent wafting around the house and usually he would've guessed in a second who it belonged to but now just wasn't one of those times.

He blinked at the ceiling, wishing he had telekinetic powers so he could shut the blinds from where he was in his bed. "Hello?"

"Alex?" said Roxane, her heels clicking and painful to hear. She seemed to read Alexander's mind when immediately she removed her shoes and approached the bed, placing the back of her cold hands on each side of his face. It was soothing but Roxane was really the last person he wanted to see right now - she reminded him of the problems he was gonna have to deal with soon. "Sweetie, you okay?"

"Yeah," groaned Alexander, sitting up warily. "Could you shut the blinds?"

Roxane chuckled and moved to shut the blinds. Immediately Alexander's hangover became more sufferable. "Better?"

"Loads better, thanks," he said, picking up his clock - _SUN 15:04_. "Shit, it's late. What're you doing here?"

Roxane sat at the side of his bed. "I called. Your friend Hephaestion answered, said you needed me."

"Is he still here?"

"I can't cook to save a life and he couldn't find anything in your kitchen so he went to get some groceries."

"What'd you want?"

"What?"

"You called me right?"

"Oh. Yeah, Cleitus is back, which I'm sure you already know. He sounded kind of," Roxane frowned, trying to find the right word. "Upset. Hysterical, really. Did you tell him something?"

"Ah shit," grumbled Alexander, rubbing the inside of his wrists into his eye sockets. "I may have told him I was having second thoughts."

"You are?" asked Roxane, laughing. "I thought we were perfect together."

"Ha ha," said Alexander, and then he glanced up apologetically. "I'm serious."

"You can't be serious," said Roxane, her face falling. "We promised. Since college, Alex. You can't bail on me _now_."

"Look, I'm sorry, Roxy, but you gotta find someone else. I'm sure it wouldn't be a problem for you."

"Am I. . . interrupting something?" asked Hephaestion from the doorway, groceries in both his hands. "I could leave the stuff on the counter."

"No," said Alexander immediately, hopping off the bed. It was quite obvious that what happened the previous night was still weighing heavily on Hephaestion's mind. Alexander could tell from the give in his voice and the way he avoided his gaze. "About last night, I um, I'm sorry."

_For what?_ Hephaestion wanted to ask. _Kissing me or being a total drunk ass?_ "It's okay, I think the punch you took has pretty much compensated enough."

"I'm sorry," said Roxane, slipping on her heels and leaving the room. "I think_ I'm_ interrupting."

"Roxy," called Alexander half-heartedly, but judging by the slam of the door, she was already out of the apartment.

"I hope that wasn't my fault," said Hephaestion.

Alexander shook his head. "No."


	18. Chapter 18

"S'your nose okay?"

The blonde nudged the bridge of his nose warily. He felt the bone shift slightly under his finger and cringed at the brief but nonetheless mind-numbing sting. He felt his eyes smart and dabbed the tears away, sniffing. "I should probably go see the doctor later."

"Yeah, it looks pretty bad," said Hephaestion, cracking an egg into the pan where it crackled loudly. It was a very foreign sound to hear in this house, the sound of real food being cooked. Even when Nguyen cooked, it was always just the business of putting something into the microwave - a pork or chicken cutlet, or a steak, a dollop of coleslaw on the side, all packed air-tight in a plastic container and sealed up in cling wrap.

"How bad?"

"Have you seen yourself? You look like a brinjal."

"Gee, thanks," said Alexander, chuckling and then stopping because for some reason it made every part of his body hurt like a bitch.

"You okay?" asked Hephaestion, setting the plate of omelette on the table. He was still in that pale blue shirt he wore last night. There was a brown stain the shape of Canada just on the top of his collar and the blonde wondered if it was his blood. "Here."

"Yeah, quit asking," mumbled Alexander at his plate. He had a fleeting deja vu of the time he'd been served by a waitress at a small retro bar somewhere in the outskirts of Texas. She kept slipping him small bowls of fries and winking at him and chewing her gum. She told him it was on the house, so he just sat there, eating and tracing water patterns on the counter like a lost boy waiting for his uncle Cleitus to come take him home. "Sorry for bleeding on your shirt."

"What?" said Hephaestion distractedly, snagging his eyes down at his own shirt. "Oh."

Alexander glanced up, dragging a scrap of egg around under the tine of his fork. "Yeah."

"Do you- " Hephaestion cleared his throat and tucked his fringe behind his ear, not looking at Alexander. "Do you maybe wanna talk about what happened last night? And don't give me shit about not remembering."

"Okay," the blonde exhaled harshly and popped his knuckles against his jeans. He looked up at Hephaestion, but the contact only lasted for a second before he looked away.

"I liked it," said Hephaestion suddenly, and then he sort of collapsed onto the counter, his big hands covering his face and the sliver of skin visible between his fingers flushing brick-red. "But you're a huge asshole and things are only gonna end badly and I don't wanna be part of any of this."

"Okay," said Alexander breathily, unnerved by the turn things were taking. This was what he'd been hoping for, rehearsed in his head a million times over and each time he'd always been able to come up with some suave response to sweep the brunette off his feet. But _this_ time, the only time that really even mattered, Alexander just couldn't seem to find the words to say. It was like a cog was missing from his brain and his head was an inchoate mess, playing out every single possible way things could end horribly.

Hephaestion's hands fell away and he stood up straighter. His face was still red as a firetruck but there was also disbelief there. "Okay. . . That all you're gonna say?"

"I - I'm not an asshole," said Alexander dumbly. "I don't _mean_ to be an asshole, I just. . . I say the wrong words, do the wrong things."

"Did you mean to kiss me then? Or was it just the asshole side of you running on autopilot again?"

"Are you kidding me?"

Hephaestion's jaw fell open, his lips moving to form some word but never really managing anything. He pushed his tousled hair away from his face and scrubbed at his jaw. The sparse beard had grown thicker since last night. There was a distracting glow from the full-length windows behind Alexander and Hephaestion glanced outside, watched for a moment as trees swayed and neighbors took out their trash. "I get it. I should go."

"What?"

"Don't forget to see the docs," said Hephaestion, moving around the counter and reaching into the wooden box to fish for the keys to the front door.

"What do you mean you get it? I don't even get it myself," Alexander quickly picked out the keys the man was looking for and tucked them in his own pocket. "Why am I letting you go again? What am I missing? Do you understand just how long I've been waiting for this?"

Alexander pulled Hephaestion gruffly into his arms, feeling the brunette's shoulders square for a moment, before he relaxed into his hold and squeezed back. He buried his face in Alexander's shoulder and the blonde exhaled deeply. They stayed that way for several moments. "You know that guy I told you about at the hotel? That guy I'm so in love with?"

Hephaestion cursed, his voice barely above a whisper as he pulled away and tried to right himself. "I almost forgot."

"Phai, what I meant to say is," said Alexander, not letting go of Hephaestion's arms. "The poor guy is you."

Hephaestion jerked his head up. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Alexander shook his head and looked down at his hands, still clasped tight around Hephaestion's. He let go, figuring the man had the right to decide if he wanted to stay and hear about this deep-seated infatuation he had with him. A mirthless laugh bobbed up from his throat. "You probably shouldn't hear about it."

Hephaestion stared hard at Alexander, searching for the barest indication of dishonesty or a clue that the blonde was trying to pull some sick joke on him. "But why? What's changed?"

"Nothing's changed, that's the thing," said Alexander, looking about as incredulous as Hephaestion felt. "S'been ten years, I still want you."

Appearing sufficiently overwhelmed, Hephaestion went to sit on the couch, studying the fancy norwegian patterns that were sewn onto the upholstery and running his fingers over it. He cleared his throat and glanced at Alexander, who was seated on the barstool at the counter, staring at him intently. Hephaestion snagged his eyes away and rubbed at his jaw.

"So? Would you perhaps want to grace my valiant confession with some kind of response?" Alexander smiled in an effort to ease the tension so things wouldn't get too ugly if Hephaestion decided to reject him.

"You know what? No pressure," decided Alexander with a wave of a hand. "You don't have to give me an answer right now. I mean, after all, liking a kiss and being in love are two totally different things. I shouldn't have come off so strong- "

"Shut up, Alex, just stop talking," said Hephaestion, swiftly getting up from the couch and standing in front of the blonde, his hands large and firm on either of Alexander's shoulders.

Alexander looked up at him, taking in the clean, sharp angles of his face, the tremor of eyelashes that concealed a small beauty mark at the base of his right eye - something he'd never seen before, and the nervous tic in his hard-set jaw that made his determination evident. Alexander could study the man from this standpoint for days and days on end.

"Kiss me," said Hephaestion in a voice thick as syrup. Alexander needed no further encouragement, slipping his arms around Hephaestion's waist and pulling him closer as he tipped his head up and captured those lips with his own.

Hephaestion opened his mouth under Alexander's. His hands moved up to cup his neck, fingers drawing nonsensical symbols at the base of his nape and then raking into the dirty blonde hair, mussing it up beyond repair. Alexander's hands were hot and flat against his sides, bringing their bodies so close together it was hard to decipher one's frantic heartbeat from the other's.

Pulling Hephaestion's head back, Alexander plastered his lips to the brunette's throat, following its anxious ducking movement with his tongue. Hephaestion shivered viscerally as he felt the blonde grin against his skin, his breath cold and feathery on the moisture he'd created.

Suddenly they were on their feet and Alexander was pulling away. There was a desperate, pleading expression on his face, like seeking some sort of permission, and Hephaestion didn't know what else to do but kiss him again, if only because he sure as hell wasn't done with that yet.

Alexander pulled away for the second time and Hephaestion fought a flagitious urge to punch the man in the face. "Bedroom."

Heat slammed into Hephaestion's face and he quite nearly keeled over from it. He didn't think he'd understood him correctly. "What?"

"M'sorry, are we going too fast?" muttered Alexander, nerves terribly rattled.

"I don't know," said Hephaestion, his lips feeling swollen. "But we can't just stop here."

Alexander laughed, moving to kiss the part on Hephaestion where neck joined shoulder and the brunette's eyes fell shut almost automatically from the feeling. The blonde pushed Hephaestion onto the couch and captured his sharp collar bone between his lips, fingers moving deftly as they unbuttoned his blue shirt, stopping only to pull his own wifebeater over his head.

Hephaestion ran his hands over Alexander's bare chest and down his stomach, feeling the iron-like muscle and sinew flex under the tanned skin. There was a sudden rush of excitement and desire in his veins, making his heart flutter like a love-struck teenager as he murmurred Alexander's name. The effect it had on the blonde was plainly visible as Alexander exhaled deeply, love and awe dancing in his brown eyes as he descended upon the brunette. He rested balmy forehead against balmy forehead and rolled his hips exploratively against Hephaestion's. "This okay?"

"More," said Hephaestion, the word a mere growl, and Alexander was fumbling with his belt buckle, unzipping his fly and rubbing him through his paper-thin boxers. Hephaestion's hips bucked up in want at the incredible sensation. He'd never been touched this way before, not even by himself.

"Wait," whispered Alexander against the shell of his ear, his tongue darting out to lick it. "It gets better."

Hephaestion screwed his eyes shut, nodding. _Anything, whatever you want, just don't fucking stop_.

Alexander planted a series of wet kisses down the middle of his chest, following the light brown trail of hair down his flat, trembling stomach to the waistband of his boxers. Hephaestion's head lolled backwards over the arm of the couch, the sickening anticipation killing his brain cells one at a time. And then Alexander's hot mouth was on him, licking a dampness through his boxers. Hephaestion whimpered and his hand flew up to cover his mouth, prevent any other involuntary sounds from further obliterating what little dignity he had left.

Alexander glanced up at him in amusement and then pulled the obstructing garment down with his teeth, kissing the naked, throbbing member with a deliberate tenderness that blew Hephaestion's mind. "Alex, _fuck_."

The blonde's tongue barely touched the organ before Hephaestion sat up and shrank away, his knees connecting painfully with Alexander's ribs, before falling off the couch entirely and spewing his seeds all over the parquet. "Oh, God. . ."

"You okay?" asked Alexander with several cowlicks in his curly blonde hair as he laughed and rubbed at his quickly bruising ribs.

Hephaestion couldn't help from laughing too, if only out of embarrassment. His chest was heaving as he climbed back onto the couch. He trailed his fingers over Alexander's ribs. "Sorry. Does it hurt?"

Alexander eyed the movement of his fingers and let out a tremulous breath, smiling briefly. "No."

The brunette dipped his head and pressed his lips against the trenches of Alexander's chest, unzipping his pants. But then Alexander placed his hand over Hephaestion's, pushing his long hair out of his eyes. "You don't have to."

"No, I don't," said Hephaestion, smiling and then kissing him as his hands continued with their administrations. "Am I doing it right?"

"Oh, God don't ask me that with that earnest look on your face," said Alexander, leaning back on his elbows as Hephaestion crawled on top of him. "I feel like I'm corrupting you."

Hephaestion laughed, a deep, lovely sound that warmed Alexander's heart. He pressed his open mouth against the blonde's shoulder and rode his jeans-clad thigh slowly, blotting everything out from his mind at every jerk of his hips.

Alexander rocked back against him in perfect synchronity, feeling the other man grow hard again from the delicious friction. And then Hephaestion stopped, pushing his hand into Alexander's boxers and curling his fingers as he kissed him. He didn't know what he was doing, but whatever it was was good, because within seconds the blonde was moaning into his mouth at their simultaneous release and it all felt amazing.

Alexander laid back and Hephaestion fell on top of him, his soft hair sprawled over the blonde's chest as his eyes drooped shut. They stayed that way until sleep rushed up to claim them both.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: I'm so sorry for the wait, guys! Midyears just ended yesterday. :) So okay, no more excuses - here's the next chapter:**

* * *

The next morning wasn't as had been precedented. Nothing like one of those heartless movie scenes where the jilted lover awoke to a vacant coldness at the other side of the bed, or in their case, couch.

No, instead of that glutting sense of abandonment he'd braced himself for, Alexander felt long, heavy arms draped around his midriff. Hephaestion's breath came in short, feather-light puffs against his chest, quiescent and predictable as the fever of the sun. The longer he stared, the harder he found it was to believe he was actually there right now, alive and living and _real_ in this scene he was certain had played out in his head before, another one of his perfect inventions. Hephaestion's clothes were on the parquet floor, a tangled mess next to Alexander's, and the blonde couldn't stop staring.

"Be still, my heart," said Alexander softly to the room, his voice a deep rasp and his tongue thick from disuse. He chuckled at himself, rubbing his inner wrist into his eye socket as he stretched. Hephaestion's nose nudged at his ribs and Alexander looked down to find a pair of groggy blue eyes staring right back.

Alexander grinned. "Good morning."

Hephaestion lurched to an upright position, snagging his hands through his hair in a failed attempt at setting it straight. He smiled lopsidedly, a sweet boyish smile. "Morning."

Alexander laughed as he sat up. His gaze dropped, catching sight of the pale burn marks that he'd seen on Hephaestion's chest on two occasions before. The brunette crossed his arms protectively over his chest, sniffed and looked away.

"How did, um - how did those happen?"

"Hm?"

"These," said Alexander, scooted closer and gently pulled Hephaestion's hands away. He ghosted his fingers over the scars, glancing enquiringly up at the brunette.

"It's nothing," Hephaestion sighed with a brittle quirk of a smile, as he took Alexander's hands and pulled him to his feet. "Go shower. I'll fix us something to eat. . . What?"

"Nothing."

Hephaestion laughed, punching his shoulder. "What? Why were you staring at me?"

Alexander bit down on his bottom lip to stifle a grin, his arms curling ingenuously around Hephaestion's waist and pulling him closer. Nuzzling the long hair away, he kissed the side of his neck. "Love you, Phai."

A small jerk of his lips and he swallowed, pushing Alexander away and smacking him upside the head. "Stupid. Your breath smells like shit, now go take a shower."

"Join me?" invited Alexander, waggling his eyebrows and touching Hephaestion's hand.

"Um, no." said Hephaestion and he turned quickly to the kitchen before the other man could see the blush rising steadily up his neck.

* * *

When Alexander entered his office he found his uncle there, gazing distractedly out the window as the people below oompah-loompahed in and out of doors. He set his coffee on the desk and regarded his nephew.

"You know what it is that I would very much like to know?"

"What're you doing here?" asked Alexander, moving to take his seat and pointedly ignoring Cleitus's question.

"I would like to know what Roxane means by you," continued Cleitus, walking around the desk to face Alexander. "asking Cassander, to _'stand in'_ as managing director. Now, Alex I hope you understand the company is not a playground for you to play pretend or, or _dress-up, _or whatsoever and this recent discovery as to what you do at the office in my absence has greatly disappointed me."

Alexander stared at his uncle for several moments, slightly bowled over. He fit the base of his thumb into the philtrum on his lip, an autogenetic gesture of his. "It was um, a private compromise. No public projects were involved or affected in the slightest. So there's nothing you should worry about."

"I understand that you were conspiring to delude one of your employers," Cleitus eyed his nephew and Alexander looked away with a sniff, turning his attention to the computer screen. "I am given to believe that she must be something special. Was it because of her that your engagement is failing?"

"No, Cleitus, just stay out of this, okay?"

Cleitus looked disgusted by the idea. "How can I? You've clearly proven yourself to be a helpless mess. You are my nephew."

Alexander didn't say anything, just sat staring at the screen, fingers hovering over the keys, his never-ending list of tasks suddenly escaping him.

"Y'know, if you're serious about her," suggested Cleitus as he sat on the corner of the desk, his right hand clasped on his thigh, silver watch catching on the hair of his arm. "You should introduce us."

"It's not like that."

"Well, what's it like then?" asked Cleitus. Simple, no trace of an undertone, like asking if he would like a dash of bourbon in his latte.

Alexander exhaled deeply, forming a tent with his fingers. "Roxane and I are rational adults, Cleitus, I hope you can trust us on that. We'll deal with our problems on our own."

"So you haven't met someone new?"

"No."

"Has she?"

"Jesus, Cleitus, no and stop asking."

"Fine," said Cleitus, retreating from the desk. "Just - try not to let things get out of hand, okay? I still hope to maintain friendly relations with her parents."

Alexander let out a huff of disbelief. "Right."

But Cleitus was already out of earshot.

* * *

On his way out of the office, Hephaestion saw Gerald coming in with a large cardboard chair in his hands. His shiny head peeped out from behind the chair as he craned his neck to see who was in front of him.

"Hephaestion," said Gerald not without relief. "Quick, come give us a hand." He handed the chair to Hephaestion, who watched as Ptolemy came in with a cardboard desktop plus a keyboard, a mouse, a mouse pad and a telephone to match. He set the items carefully down on Frank's empty desk, where the things would have normally went.

"What's up?" asked Hephaestion.

"We're revamping Frank's office," said Ptolemy proudly, taking the chair from Hephaestion and placing it almost reverently in front of the desk, which was ostensibly the only item in the office not replaced by a cardboard replica.

"Who _made_ these?" asked Hephaestion, surveying the details on the cardboard items.

"Yours truly," said Ptolemy with his arms akimbo.

"Wow, nice job," said Hephaestion in approval. "You have a knack for installation art."

Ptolemy beamed. "Thanks. Oh and before I forget, um. Could I have the slides on your new interface designs? I need them for reference."

"Oh yeah, sure. They're in my thumbdrive," said Hephaestion, checking his pockets. "It's back in my office. I'll go get it."

"Thanks."

"Don't worry about it," mumbled Hephaestion as he jogged back to his office.

What he didn't expect was to find Cassander there, sitting alone in the dark room. His expression was inscrutable as he looked up at Hephaestion, who shifted on his feet, moving reluctantly to lean against the desk.

Cassander was still staring at him. "Hi."

Hephaestion cast his eyes down to the floor, sucking a hollow under his lip. "Hi."

Turning to watch his fingers drum against the desk, Cassander breathed harder and asked, "So um, how's it going?"

"What - um, great." Hephaestion said, shaking his head. "Why?"

"I miss you," said Cassander, and when Hephaestion didn't respond, he added "Can't stop thinking about you."

Discomfited, Hephaestion shifted away from the desk and nearer to the door, deriving comfort from the proximity of egress. "I uh - I need to get something for Ptolemy."

"I'm sure that can wait," said Cassander immediately, somewhat impatient, but he made no move to approach Hephaestion. "Haven't seen or talked to you in days. This is how you treat me."

Hephaestion dug his hands in his pockets, didn't say a word.

"So, what? Are things over between us?" Cassander scratched below his eye distractedly and stood up. He took a step towards Hephaestion, clearing his throat. "What I'm wondering is, are you cheating on me?"

"Don't," said Hephaestion, placing a firm hand on Cassander's chest to keep him at arm's length. "Don't pull this on me again."

"We were just taking a break from each other, Hephaestion. And what you did, you went and fucked some other guy? Are you even sorry for doing this to me?" asked Cassander, his soft voice laced with incredulity. A humorless laugh and he was saying, cold and raw as a stake through the chest, "Fuck, can't you tell you're breaking my heart?"

"Cassander, I thought we agreed the last time that we were through. It just didn't work out -"

"You never even gave us a goddamn chance," the desk jarred under his fist. "I fell so hard for you, so take some fucking responsibility."

Hephaestion's hand went grab onto Cassander's arm, patted once and let his hand fall. "I don't know what to say."

"Say you'll give us another chance."

"You know it's impossible."

"Why? You don't love him, not yet. Just don't let it happen."

"Cassander, don't make this harder than it has to be."

"Who the fuck's the one talking?"

"Just calm down, man -"

And then Cassander slammed into Hephaestion, pinning him against the cabinet, and moving in as though to kiss him. A sick sensation coiled in Hephaestion's gut and instinctively, he veered back and headbutted the man. Falling headlong onto the ground, Cassander knocked over the mug and several files on the desk as he tried to save his fall. "Fuck."

Hephaestion hardly had the time to regret his actions before Cassander was getting a knee under himself, his fist pitching towards Hephaestion's face and connecting with a subdued crack. A guttural groan ripped from his throat and Hephaestion punched him back in the face, cutting a neat split across his lip. Cassander wavered on his feet and lunged at him, grounding the both of them. He straddled his chest and secured his arms above his head. They were both gasping for breath, high-strung from the debilitating adrenaline.

"Get the fuck off me," spat Hephaestion.

"Not until you get your shit together."

"_You_ get your shit together!"

"You _headbutted_ me!"

"What was I supposed to do? You were trying to kiss me."

The room was silent then, save for the sound of the distant murmur of conversation only several feet away from their door. Cassander's fury ebbed away and he gaped, teetering on the edge of speech. "Does the thought of it repulse you so badly?"

Hephaestion was still struggling to catch his breath, which was especially difficult with the other man sitting on his chest. He coughed, confused. "What?"

"You and me. Together."

Hephaestion took in a labored breath, knocking his knees against Cassander's back. "Get off me."

This time Cassander did as he was asked, rolling off Hephaestion. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his sleeve. "Answer me."

"Yeah, okay?" said Hephaestion, pacing a little as he pushed his hair out of his face. "I just feel guilty, y'know?"

"For what? Cheating on me or cheating on him?" asked Cassander, his anger returning. Hephaestion just refused to speak. "Fucking hell, just say it."

"What do you want me to say?" Hephaestion lashed out, before dropping to a lower register. "I don't know, it's just. What we had, you and me, it's - well, it's different. I can't see a future with the both of us together, Cassander. When I think of you, I think of all these complications and I can't help but feel that it's just not worth it. And when I think of him, it's so simple. So natural it makes me wanna smile like an idiot, y'know?"

"Makes you think, like, _meant to be_, right?"

"Yeah."

"Funny," Cassander laughed a laugh that didn't reach his eyes. "That's how I felt about you."

And he walked out of the office, the door blasting shut behind him.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Hey, guys. I'm so glad no one's slamming me about my delayed updates. You guys are so cool, just so you know. And here you go - it's not much but the chapter's just _slightly_ longer. Sorry, I tried. CAUTION: very, very explicit (kind of crude - depending on your standards, I don't know - and painfully awkward) sex scene ahead, so please just skip this chapter if you're really not up for that right now. **

* * *

"I'm home."

"Welcome home," said Alexander, coming out of the kitchen. The smile on his face fell away abruptly as he took off his mittens, approaching Hephaestion. "Shit, Phai. What happened to you?"

Hephaestion looked away, easing out of Alexander's hold. "Nothing," he chuckled. "Alex, what're you doing here?"

"Like hell, nothing happened," said Alexander, pushing Hephaestion's hair away to inspect the damage. Dark blood was gathering at the base of his jaw for a prodigious bruise, and one of his eyes was swelling yellowly. Alexander ran his thumb over Hephaestion's uninjured cheek. "Jesus, who did this to you?"

"You don't look too good yourself," said Hepheastion, indicating the splintered nose which he had inflicted on the man himself. It was healing, but the process was slow enough. "Anyway, the other guy isn't much better off, so this," he gesticulated toward his face. "Isn't too big of a problem. I see you're taking my gramma up on her offer."

"You gonna put some medication on that?"

"Nope, just gonna let it heal on its own," he grinned, and winced slightly from the sting. "I'm a man."

"Or are you afraid of the pain from touching it?" asked Alexander, laughing as he pulled Hephaestion in by the waist for a brief kiss.

"What is this, fight club?" asked Martha, and like a French farce, the two of them pulled away, clearing their throats and righting their hair.

"Gramma -" said Hephaestion, but whatever half-assed coming-out speech he was about to say was unceremoniously cut off by Martha, who sat Hephaestion down, her mouth running like a Gatling gun. She came out of the kitchen with a first-aid box and expertly went about with her business of attending to Hephaestion's face.

"First our dear Alex comes in with a broken nose and your poor gramma almost suffers a heart attack, and now _you_, Phai," she said, punctuating her words with a dab of cotton against the contusion on his eyelid. "Heavens, just what have you boys been up to?"

With effort, Hephaestion glanced up at Alexander, warning him telepathically not to sell him out. But Alexander was laughing and grabbing for his mittens. "I'll go see if the lasagna's ready."

When Alexander left them alone, Hephaestion tried again, softly but loud enough that Martha could hear him. "Gramma, um, me and Alex -"

"Are dating?"

"What? Ow," Hephaestion cringed as his grandmother rubbed at a particularly prone spot. He looked at her with his good eye, asking, "How did you know?"

"My dear, I wasn't born yesterday, you know?" she said, laughing as she packed up the first-aid box. "I know what it looks like when two men are in love. In fact, you know Uncle Jeff and Uncle Dave? I've told you about them."

"Oh, yeah," said Hephaestion, remembering his grandfather's two best friends. Martha had recounted many stories of their youth, how they loved and laughed together until the trio's last days in wartime.

"Well, Jeff and Dave were lovers," Martha held her grandson's face between her hands and patted twice, visibly pulling herself out of the memory. It was clearly a painful one. "I'm just glad you've finally found someone, and count yourself lucky you live in times like this."

* * *

"Why don't you stay the night, Alex?" suggested Martha sweetly. She patted his cheek and yawned. "I'm going to bed first. Phai, show him his room."

"But um, we have work tomorrow," said Alexander, scratching behind his head and looking to Hephaestion, unsure of his thoughts about him staying the night.

"You could borrow some of my clothes," said Hephaestion, grinning.

Alexander smiled nervously. "Hokay," and as Hephaestion pulled him away, he said over his head, "Good night, Martha."

"G'night, gramma," muttered Hephaestion.

"Good night, my lovelies."

* * *

Hephaestion shut the door behind him, locking it with a sharp _snick_.

"Why'd you lock the door -"

"Shh," said Hephaestion, curling his fingers around the belt loops of Alexander's jeans.

"No way," said Alexander in astonishment as he was pushed onto the bed. Air was knocked out of the mattress and the scent of Hepheastion wafted all around him, portentous as the holocaustic smell of vitriol. It was crippling his self-control.

"Yes way," said Hephaestion, crawling on top of the blonde, his hands flat against his chest.

"What if she hears us?" whispered Alexander harshly. "She might be okay with it, but that doesn't mean we have to shove it on her face."

Hephaestion chuckled. "Don't worry, she sleeps like the dead."

"Really?" asked Alexander, his eyebrows lining upwards in a hopeful angle. It was impossible to stop now, not with the brunette staring at his mouth like that.

"Yes," said Hephaestion, drawing closer so that the word was a whisper against Alexander's lips. His pupils were blown wide open. "Okay?"

"Yeah," said Alexander, and he flipped them over, his heart buzzing and oozing like a shaken hive. Hephaestion was chuckling as Alexander's hands fumbled to untuck the man's shirt. But then he paused, changing his mind. "Strip."

For a moment Hephaestion stared at him with his jaw asunder, and then nodding, slowly unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off, each movement seeming somehow to bear extra significance under Alexander's scrutiny. He unbuckled his belt and as he pulled off his pants, his hips hiked up, drawing a delicious sound from the blonde at the friction between their groins. His hands hesitated at the waistband of his boxers. "Every -" he said, voice cracking halfway, and he chuckled softly in embarrassment. Flitting his eyes up at Alexander, he asked again, "Everything?"

The moment was sort of broken for Alexander, and suddenly he remembered with striking clarity just how little experience Hephaestion had, as well as the very likely possibility that they were moving too quickly. He couldn't quite seem to get past that idea. And then just like that, Alexander shifted away from Hephaestion, settling on the other side of the bed and pushing glumly at his arousal in an effort to quell it.

"What's wrong?" asked Hephaestion, pulling Alexander's hand away to stop him. "I'm sorry I ruined the mood, it's just - I was embarrassed."

"No, it's not that."

"Is it the bruises?" asked Hephaestion, his other hand unconsciously flying up to cover the discolored area on his face. "They're kinda disgusting, huh?"

"No," said Alexander, pulling Hephaestion's hand away. "They're not. I think they're fucking hot, in fact." He said this as though he was ashamed of himself.

But the brunette smiled, appearing slightly pleased with himself. "Then what?"

"I just thought - You've never done this before right?"

"I have."

"You're lying."

"Then what was it that we did last week?" asked Hephaestion indignantly. "Wasn't that sex?"

"That was. . ." Alexander blushed, the memory of that day gushing back like an undertow. "Not quite. I'm not - sex isn't that important in our relationship, you know? I mean, we could spend a perfectly nice day together without having sex."

"You don't wanna fuck me, then?"

"No!" and Alexander choked. "I mean, not yet. I don't think you're ready for that."

Hephaestion laughed, incredulous. "What're you talking about? I'm twenty-five." He looked down at his lap, remembering belatedly that it was a pretty embarrassing fact, being a twenty-five-year-old virgin. "Anyway, I want this. Do you?"

Alexander cursed, caressing Hephaestion's knee. "Yeah. Hell, yes, I do."

Hephaestion bit down on his lip, then proceeded to remove his boxers, dropping it onto the ground beside the bed. Once completely naked, he lay himself down on the sheets, hands by his side, staring up at the ceiling in anticipation. Lay there like some kind of a divine offering to the gods, and Alexander spent a while simply drinking in the sight.

He was beautiful. Long hair still tied up in a messy bun, some strands wandering over the line of his shoulder. All tan skin, angular bones and hard, compact muscle. The part where strong thighs joined his body was several shades lighter, and Alexander's hands drifted over the skin. He watched as Hephaestion watched him twirl a finger into the brown hair between his loins, tugging softly. His dick twitched and he was whining breathlessly. "For fuck's sake, Alex -"

But Alexander sealed his mouth over Hephaestion's, licking possessively into the hot cavern, kissed him so hard they were sinking into the mattress. He pulled back to tug his shirt over his head, leaving his dirty blonde hair standing up at odd angles. Pausing, he reached to pull the band out of Hephaestion's hair, letting the soft locks pool over the pillows.

"Dude, don't be an ass," said Hephaestion, chuckling as he pulled himself up so their bodies were flush against each other. He cupped Alexander's clothed crotch, just to get a feel of the situation, then pulled the pants down along with the boxers. "Everything off."

Alexander groaned, kicking off the last shards of his clothing and creeping on top of Hephaestion, whose humor had suddenly left him as they stared into each other's eyes, the uniform flicker of light as a neighbour turned in for the night. Then the blonde ground down against him, their dicks sliding together, eliciting a long, drawn-out moan that could've come from either of them.

"You sure about this?" asked Alexander, his hand trailing up and down Hephaestion's side.

"Yeah," Hephaestion glanced down at their groins. "How does this work?"

The blonde answered by putting two fingers into his own mouth and snaking the hand behind Hephaestion. The cold wetness pushed between his firm cheeks and settled around the tight pucker.

"Oh," breathed Hephaestion, and he screwed his eyes shut as one finger was pushed inside him. Then two. And the realisation struck him like a ton of bricks that Alexander was now scissoring him. He was about to fuck him.

"Does that hurt?" asked Alexander, kissing his forehead.

"No," lied Hephaestion, arching up against the blonde. "It's okay. What next?"

Carefully, Alexander removed his fingers and lifted Hephaestion's knees onto his broad shoulders. The brunette squirmed into a more comfortable position, feeling the muscles on Alexander's back flex under his calves. Pursing his lips as though in concentration, Alexander began to stroke Hephaestion's dick, slow enough that it made him want to cry.

Alexander kissed the side of his neck, whispering, hoarse and aroused, "Do you have lube?"

"Lube as in lube -" Hephaestion panted, trying to make sense of the word, which was exceedingly difficult at the moment with the other man's thumb on the tip of his penis.

"Lubrication," clarified Alexander.

"No, sorry," whispered Hephaestion, burying his face in Alexander's shoulder. "Fuckjustdoit."

"It's gonna hurt like a bitch."

"Dammit," mumbled Hephaestion, flipping them over and going down on the blonde. He took the pulsing member into his mouth and Alexander jerked violently.

"Phai!" the blonde screamed silently, biting into his own forearm. His fingers closed painfully around the hair near Hephaestion's scalp. "Oh, God. Stop."

Hephaestion pulled back, blushing as a translucent strand of precum lingered between his mouth and Alexander's penis. He licked his lips and it fell away. "Sorry, I wasn't thinking. I just wanted to. Y'know. We don't have lube."

The mere sight of Hepheastion like that - cheeks flushed and lips shining criminally, it almost drove Alexander into the mire and he drew Hephaestion in to kiss him full on the lips. Hephaestion pulled back, blue eyes boring into brown for an electric second, like some sort of message was being relayed there and Alexander was missing it by a long shot. Then Hephaestion kissed him again as he positioned the tip of Alexander's penis at his entrance, slowly began to lower himself. The blonde groaned into his mouth.

Hephaestion pulled away from the kiss and leaned his forehead heavily against Alexander's, hard enough that they knew that bruises were going to form the next day. With his face scrunched up in pain, Hephaestion sucked in a gasp, and kept pushing until Alexander was completely inside him. He exhaled harshly. "Do people actually enjoy this?"

"Shit, Phai, hurts doesn't it. I'm so sorry," said Alexander hastily, moving up on his elbows to pull out.

"No - ah," Hephaestion's eyes squeezed shut and his fingers dug into the blonde's back, holding him tight. He whispered, so close his nose was digging into Alexander's cheek, "I think you just hit the spot. Do that again."

Nodding, Alexander pushed in again once more, slowly, and as the brunette's moans grew louder he increased his pace, his vision whiting out with each snap of his hips. Struck dumb by the sensation of Hephaestion's open mouth all over him, and his hot body slamming wetly down in impeccable synchronisation.

With a shudder, Hephaestion climaxed, gasping out the blonde's name like he couldn't believe it was real. The ring of muscle tensed and tightened around Alexander, and that about brought him over the edge as he sucked a bruise onto the muscle of Hephaestion's shoulder, muffling his cry.

When Alexander's eyes reopened, he found Hephaestion lying on the other side of the bed, faced towards him with his eyes shut, but his chest was still heaving like he'd just run a mile. A strand of sweat-soaked hair fell over his face and Alexander tucked it behind his ear.

Sniffing, Alexander lay on his back, feeling the perspiration quickly evaporate from his skin into the cold air of the night. He grinned, mouthing to no one in particular, "Wow."

Hephaestion sniggered beside him. "Well someone sure seems pleased with himself."

Alexander chuckled, turning to face the brunette as he touched his cheek with the back of his hand, felt him lean slightly into it. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

Shaking his head, Hephaestion circled his arms around Alexander's waist and pulled him in close, grinning into his skin. "Was fucking amazing."

Tension dropped in the blonde's body at that, and he hugged the man tight. It was at this moment that he thought he'd heard something he never dreamt he'd hear.

"I think I love you," whispered Hephaestion like a silent confession.

The sound of black blood pounding in his ears almost rendered the statement inaudible, and Alexander pulled back, looked into Hephaestion's eyes. He tried not to sound as astounded as he felt. "What?"

"Nothing," said Hephaestion, shutting the blonde up with a long, tender kiss. One Alexander took as a substantial confirmation as to what the brunette had just said.

"Hephaestion Amyntoros, I fucking love you."


End file.
